Inheritance
by Cuaroc
Summary: Inheritance, or as close as someone writing a fanfiction can get, I hope. I will use CP's sneak peeks and other info to keep as close to the assumed storyline as possible.
1. Chapter 1

**Hello there, everybody, this is ROK. This is my first fanfiction, so please, any kind words and **_**constructive**_** criticism will be appreciated. I won't take what you say to heart if you flame. This is basically my attempt at **_**Inheritance**_**, CP style, even though he is not me and he owns the Inheritance Cycle (I love how I got the disclaimer in the A/N). I hope I will finish this before **_**Inheritance**_** comes out, otherwise, what's the point?**

**Summary: **_**Inheritance**_**, or as close as someone writing a fanfiction can get, I hope. I will use CP's sneak peek, Chapter 4, and other info to keep as close to the assumed storyline as possible.**

**Chapter 1**

Eragon and Saphira sat on the edge of a cliff overlooking the sea, immersed in their own thoughts. Behind them was the city of Feinster, now under the control of the Varden. Parts of the city were still on fire from the Varden's siege, but the majority of the city was intact. Before them, the vast emptiness of the sea stretched as far as the eye could see. The setting sun cast light onto the water, creating a striking illusion of fire on water that produced a mysterious aura surrounding the dragon and Rider.

Eragon and Saphira, however, paid no attention to their beautiful surroundings. Their thoughts were focused solely on the daunting task ahead of them, and what it will cost them in the end.

_"Saphira?" _asked Eragon.

_"Yes, little one?"_

_ "How much will we have to lose until we finally end Galbatorix's bloody reign and establish peace in Alagaësia?"_

A long pause followed his question. _"I don't know," _Saphira finally answered. _"We have lost so much, yet I know that there is still a lot more blood to be shed before we finally reach that oath-breaker's castle and tear him to pieces. We can only hope," _she continued, _"that we don't lose any more loved ones in the process."_

_"But we don't know for sure what's going to happen, Saphira! Roran, Nasuada, Orik…Arya, they could all be dead by the time we reach Urû'baen!"_ Eragon exclaimed.

A plume of smoke erupted from Saphira's nostrils as she snorted. _"Peace, little one. Roran is a great warrior. He knows how to survive the oncoming battles. Nasuada and Orik are the leaders of their respective people, so they will always be surrounded by loyal soldiers ready to give their lives to protect them. As for Arya,"_ she said with a mischievous wink, _"you and I both know that she is more than capable of surviving. She has shown that on more than one occasion."_

Eragon flushed. _"Aye, that's true,"_ he managed to say. He knew Saphira knew all of his thoughts and feelings about Arya, and she was prudent enough not to say anything else on the subject.

Saphira nudged him with her snout. _"Also, we will be there to protect them, and not many can hope to fight through a dragon and her Rider."_

_ "Murtagh and Thorn could,"_ Eragon thought bitterly. _"After all, they beat Oromis and Glaedr in Gil'ead."_

All of a sudden, Eragon found himself pinned under a huge sapphire claw. He looked up into the angry face of Saphira. _"Do not talk that way, Eragon! You know that they were about to beat Murtagh and Thorn before Galbatorix intervened and Oromis had an attack! As it is, Thorn is seriously hurt and cannot fight for a couple of months without the end of his tail. Now, unless you want me to lick you from head to toe, do not continue to think this way."_

_ "I'm sorry, Saphira. Now will you please let me up?_ Eragon asked. The claw slowly lifted until Eragon could sit up again. He said, _I'm truly sorry, Saphira. I just think about how Galbatorix has killed Garrow, Brom, Oromis and Glaedr, and even Murtagh in a sense. I just don't want him to take any more away from us, or I just might go insane."_

_"We will not let him, little one. Now, let us enjoy what time we have left until the next battle."_

Eragon felt a sense of gratitude welling up inside him. _"Thank you, Saphira."_

_ "You're welcome, little one."_

_ "Do you want to fly?"_ asked Eragon.

_"I thought you'd never ask," _answered Saphira. Eragon climbed into the saddle on her back, and with a mighty flap of her wings, Saphira flew into the night.

Eragon sat atop Saphira, no longer wallowing in the misery of his past, but enjoying the time he had now and what he was given. He had a dragon who loved him more than anything else in the world, friends who cared greatly for him, and, most importantly, he had the ability to overthrow an evil tyrant and end a reign of terror in Alagaësia. He was thankful for what he had, and no longer despaired over the fates of his deceased loved ones.

Suddenly, a mind entered Eragon's. He recoiled quickly, throwing up barriers around his consciousness by focusing on one of Saphira's neck spikes. However, he quickly recognized the presence and lowered his barriers.

_"Atra esterní ono thelduin, Arya Dröttningu."_

_ "Please, Shadeslayer, no formalities with me unless the situation requires it, which tonight definitely does not,"_ Arya replied.

_ "As you wish,_ Shadeslayer_,"_ Eragon teased. Ever since Arya had killed the Shade Varaug in Feinster, Eragon had started to call her Shadeslayer as well.

Arya mentally sighed. _"Eragon, since we are now both Shadeslayers, can we omit the title and just use our given names?"_

_ "Of course, Arya,"_ Eragon said. _"Although you called me Shadeslayer first."_

_ "While that is true, do you really want to descend so low as to start playing child's games with me?"_

Eragon laughed. _"Of course not, Arya. What is the reason for this conversation?"_ he asked, not unkindly.

_"Can I not talk to one of my closest friends?"_ Arya asked jokingly.

_"Yes, you can"_ Eragon responded, _"but you would normally wait until Saphira has landed and I am in my tent to approach me, not try to contact me while we are flying."_

Arya laughed, a melodic bell-like sound in his mind. _"It is good to see how much your logic has improved, Eragon. Nasuada has asked me to tell you that she would like to see you in her tent for plans on how to attack Belatona."_

_"Very well. Tell her I will be there soon,"_ Eragon said, and cut off the connection.

Saphira changed directions and headed towards Nasuada's tent. Eragon asked her _"Are you all right with ending our flight prematurely?_

Saphira turned her head around and fixed an eye on Eragon. _"I wish that I didn't have to, but I know Nasuada's orders for you are not to be denied, so I have accepted it. Although,"_ she stated in a fiercer tone, _"she must know that I am a dragon, and I am not ordered around by anybody!"_ Saphira punctuated that statement with a roar as she landed on the ground behind Nasuada's tent.

_"I will make sure she knows,"_ Eragon replied, chuckling. _"And what are you going to be doing now, my fierce dragon?"_

_ "I will hunt, because I have not eaten since we left Ellesméra, and I saw some plump deer not too far from here," _Saphira said, and then flew off towards the west.

Eragon turned and addressed the leader of the Nighthawks, a burly dwarf at the front of the group. "Lady Nasuada has requested my presence." The dwarf banged on his shield and announced him.

"You may let him in," came the reply from inside the tent. The Nighthawks shifted and allowed Eragon access to the tent. Eragon internally smiled at this, because he knew they knew that he could kill them all with one word, yet they still acted the same towards him as anyone else who came near Nasuada. He pushed the tent flap open and walked in.

Nasuada was at the head of the table, with King Orrin and Nar Garzhvog on her right and Arya on her left. The images of Orik and Queen Islanzadí appeared in the scrying mirrors. Eragon walked up to the empty seat next to Arya and sat down. She turned her emerald eyes towards him and he quickly smiled, trying not to show too much emotion. The corners of her mouth lifted up in a slight grin before she turned back to Nasuada.

"Now that Eragon is here, we can get down to business," Nasuada said. "With winter fast approaching, we need to find a safe spot to settle down for the winter and continue our attack on the Empire in the spring. I believe the dwarves will stay in the Beor Mountains until spring, while the elves will remain in Gil'ead." Orik and Islanzadí nodded. "The Varden have three options. One, we can wait here in Feinster and attack in the spring. Two, we can send the full force of the Varden to Belatona, capture it, and winter there. Or three, we can send some of the army to Belatona to capture it, while the remainder stays in Feinster."

King Orrin said, "I think that sending a portion of the Varden to Belatona would be the best solution. Neither Feinster nor Belatona alone has enough supplies to furnish both the citizens and the Varden throughout the whole winter. By separating the army, we can make sure that we, as well as the citizens, will not starve."

"I agree," said Eragon. "Belatona is a city of craftsmen, not warriors. They will have fewer soldiers, and it will be easier to overtake the city. Galbatorix will probably protect Dras-Leona better than Belatona, because it is the financial hub of the Empire. Therefore, he will probably send fewer soldiers to Belatona. I believe that the Varden can afford to send fewer soldiers to capture Belatona."

"I agree with Firesword," Garzhvog said in a guttural voice. Arya, Orik, and Islanzadí also agreed to the proposal.

"It is settled then. The Varden will split up. Half will stay in Feinster and spend the winter here, while the rest will move to Belatona and capture it. Now, what is the status of Murtagh?"

All eyes shifted to Eragon. He shifted and said "He is fine, but Thorn is not. He lost the last three feet of his tail in Gil'ead, and it would not naturally heal. However, Galbatorix may be able to use his dark magic and re-grow it, but it would probably take at least a month. I would not expect to see him at Belatona."

At this, a sigh of relief ran through the room. Islanzadí spoke next, but she only addressed Eragon and Arya. "While we have won at Gil'ead, we have lost something else."

"We know about Oromis and Glaedr, Queen Islanzadí," Arya stated in a cold voice.

Surprise showed on Islanzadí's face, but she quickly hid it. "We plan to have their funeral in a week's time." She looked briefly at Nasuada, then said "As their pupils, they would have expected you to come to their funeral, Eragon and Saphira."

Eragon looked at Nasuada. He asked, "My Lady, do I have permission to go to Gil'ead for my mentors' funeral?"

Surprisingly, she said, "I can't really stop you, Eragon. But make sure to take Arya with you, so that you don't get into too much trouble while you are traveling. I'm sure she wants to go, too."

"I do, Lady Nasuada. We will leave tomorrow morning," Arya replied.

"So, Eragon and Arya will travel to Gil'ead to mourn the loss of Oromis and Glaedr, while we begin to move half of the army to Belatona. If there are no more questions, this meeting is adjourned."

While everyone was leaving, Arya pulled Eragon off to the side. "I will meet you at your tent an hour before sunrise. Hopefully, we can get away without too much attention."

"Agreed," Eragon said. He hesitated, then said, "Sleep well, Arya."

Again, the corners of her mouth turned up in what seemed to be a small smile. "Sleep well, Eragon. I will see you tomorrow morning," she replied, before walking off in the direction of her tent.

Eragon stared after her for a moment, then shook his head and looked up when Saphira glided over his head. _"Little one, you should return to the tent. You need to be well rested for tomorrow's trip,"_ she said.

_"Yes, Saphira,"_ Eragon replied, then took off running for his tent. He reached it in a couple of minutes, and saw Saphira laying on the ground next to it. He took off her saddle and dropped it in his tent, then walked inside and sat down on his bed. He shrugged off his tunic and laid down on the bed.

_"Good night Saphira. Sleep well."_

_ "Good night little one."_

And with that, Eragon drifted into the welcoming embrace of his waking dreams.

**Well, how about that? My first chapter ever and it's over 2,000 words long. Tell me if it's good or bad. I want to know!**

**Rock on!**

**ROK**


	2. Chapter 2

**Thank you, Galby'sapimp, for being my first reviewer! Thank you for the kind words as well.**

**Special thanks goes to The Meepsta, for giving me such a detailed review and for the great compliments! When I read your review, it made me want to start this chapter right away. (By the way, Age of Darkness **_**rocks**_**!)**

**Disclaimer: I don't own any recognizable parts of the Inheritance Cycle.**

**On to Chapter 2!**

**Chapter 2**

_"Wake, little one. Arya is outside and she is ready to leave."_

Eragon rubbed his eyes and staggered out of bed. From Saphira's tone, it seemed as if Arya had been waiting for a while and was starting to get impatient. He quickly threw on some clothes, as he didn't want to keep Arya waiting longer than needed. He grabbed the supplies he needed, as well as Saphira's saddle, and walked out of the tent.

Arya was standing next to Saphira, who had been in a conversation with Arya as she waited for Eragon. She was wearing a light green traveling tunic and her usual black leggings. As always, her face wore its signature expressionless mask, which hid her every emotion. It was rare for her to open up to anyone, especially the way she had opened up to Eragon after the siege of Feinster. Then again, she had just learned that Oromis and Glaedr, the last of the Old Order of the Dragon Riders, had been killed by the traitorous king, using Murtagh as his weapon of choice. Eragon's eyes watered. That was the only reason for the trip they were about to embark on.

"What's wrong, Eragon?" Arya asked. Eragon sighed. Like usual, Arya's perceptiveness had seen right through his façade.

"Nothing is wrong, Arya," Eragon answered, hoping that this time Arya would let his statement go unchallenged.

To his surprise, Arya stepped closer to him and laid her hand on his shoulder. "Believe me, Eragon, I know this isn't going to be easy. I have known Oromis and Glaedr for almost a hundred years, and Oromis was a father figure for me after my father was killed during the Fall. To lose him now, that's what hurts the most."

"Aye," Eragon said gravely, not really wanting to talk on that subject until they reached Gil'ead.

Arya looked at him for a few seconds, then said "Forgive me, Eragon. I did not mean to cause you pain."

Eragon laughed under his breath. _I know you don't, but you do every time I see you, no matter what you try to do to alleviate that pain,_ he thought to himself. "I know, Arya," he responded out loud. "I do not wish to cause you pain, either."

Both of them were silent for a few minutes, until Saphira raised her head and yawned. _"We'd best be leaving soon. Nasuada will have been waiting for us."_ Eragon nimbly jumped up on top of Saphira's back and settled in the saddle. He put his hand out for Arya to take, but she ignored it. With the grace only an elf had, glided up Saphira's side and sat behind Eragon.

_"We're ready, Saphira,"_ Eragon called in his mind. Saphira rose off the ground and quickly started heading northeast, to the edge of the Varden, where they were to meet Nasuada before leaving. Eragon, however, could only think about the beautiful elf princess sitting behind him, loosely putting one arm around his waist to ensure that she wouldn't fall off if Saphira tried any aerial maneuvers.

_I know that this is the wrong time, but I just can't keep my mind off of her, _Eragon thought. _ She is the only woman I wish to be with, but she will not let me get any closer. I respect her wishes, but it breaks my heart to be this close but not allowed any closer._

Saphira heard all this and felt his wave of emotions run through their link, but she decided not to comment. She just sent him feelings of love and compassion, hoping to break him out of his thoughts. She knew that, although Eragon wanted with all his heart to be with Arya, he would sooner march into battle against a thousand soldiers-who-feel-no-pain than to endanger their friendship. Saphira banked and came around to land in a clearing where Nasuada and the Nighthawks were waiting.

"You are late," admonished Nasuada, although the smile on her face implied she was at least partially joking.

"My apologies, my Lady," Eragon replied. "I overslept and caused us to be behind schedule."

"Very well. Do you have your route planned out?"

Arya spoke next. "Yes, Lady Nasuada. We will fly northeast, between Urû'baen and Dras-Leona, to get to Gil'ead."

Nasuada smiled. "Excellent. Eragon, I'm sure you packed Glaedr's Eldunarí?"

"Yes, my Lady," Eragon answered.

"Then you must not tarry any longer. Fly, Saphira, and may the wind help you to Gil'ead." Saphira jumped into the air and began flying north. Arya wrapped her arm tighter around Eragon as Saphira climbed higher than normal, so that to any observer in the Empire she would look like a bird. They flew on well into the night, trying to cover as much ground as they could before coming down to rest.

Three hours after sunset, Saphira approached an area devoid of any settlements and landed quietly. Eragon was pleased with how far they had traveled, as they would reach Gil'ead the next morning. Eragon and Arya climbed off of Saphira, and Eragon took off her saddle as she curled up on the ground. Arya created a fire and put together a meager dinner of vegetables and herbs, while Eragon used magic to replenish their water supply.

After they had finished dinner, they both sat looking into the campfire, lost in their thoughts. Eragon was reminded of his travels in the Empire, when he and Arya were returning to the Varden from the village of Eastcroft and spent the night around the campfire. He looked up at Arya, in time to see her shudder momentarily. She was sitting too close to the fire for it to be from the weather, so Eragon knew something was preying on her mind.

Sitting up, he asked, "What troubles you, Arya?"

Arya looked up at him and, after a moment, whispered "Gil'ead."

That one word told him everything he needed to know. "Why?" he asked.

A harsh laugh escaped from her mouth. "Because of the circumstances surrounding my first _visit_ to that dreadful city."

Eragon knew she was talking about the deaths of Faölin and Glenwing, the two elves who were her constant companions for twenty years while she ferried the egg between the Varden and the elves. However, the death of Faölin seemed to hit her harder. Eragon wasn't sure if he and Arya were mates, as Arya never mentioned it, but they were obviously extremely close friends, a rarity in times of war.

Eragon moved closer to her and carefully draped an arm around her shoulder. He didn't say anything, but just sat there, silently comforting her. He wrestled with a question in his mind, trying to decide whether or not to ask it. Finally, he let his curiosity overtake him and cautiously asked, "What exactly did Durza do to you in Gil'ead after he captured you and killed Faölin and Glenwing?"

He felt Arya stiffen next to him. _"Eragon…"_ Saphira warned, but Eragon ignored her. He waited patiently to see if Arya would answer him.

"Why do you ask?" Arya asked in a wary voice.

"I didn't mean to pry, Arya. I just wanted to make sure that it was not tormenting you too much," Eragon said. He turned away, towards Saphira, but stopped when Arya grabbed his hand with hers.

"I know, Eragon," she said. "And while I know that there are some things in this world that nobody should endure, I also believe that to keep a traumatic event bottled up inside a person is enough to make anybody mad. Know this, however. I have not confided this to anybody else." Eragon was startled. He never knew that Arya trusted him so much as to tell him her deepest secret, one she never hoped to share.

"I'm honored, Arya, that you chose me to confide in. I will not betray your trust," Eragon said firmly.

"I know," she said softly. They sat in silence for a couple of minutes. Finally, she turned to him and asked "Do you mind if I show it to you?"

"Of course not," Eragon replied. He lowered the barriers around his consciousness and he felt Arya enter. Suddenly, everything went black as Arya started to show him her memories of Durza's torture in Gil'ead.

_Eragon was sitting in a small, dark cell, his wrists manacled. He realized that he was seeing the memory through Arya's eyes. He heard loud footsteps coming down the hallway, which stopped outside his cell. The door opened, and then a voice Eragon knew all too well said "Hello, elf. What is it going to take today for you to tell me where you sent the egg?" Receiving no reply, Durza motioned to the soldiers. One of them moved in, picked Eragon up, and threw him over his burly shoulder. The soldier followed Durza to a large door in the wall. It was opened up to reveal a room filled with torture implements, lining the walls all the way to the ceiling._

_ Durza moved over to a knotted whip with metal spikes attached to it. He then picked up a jar filled with a dark black liquid. Eragon's breath caught as he realized it was Seithr oil. The Shade poured the oil over the edge of the whip. "Let's see what this does to you, elf," he growled. He repeatedly whipped Eragon, so that when he was done there was no skin left on his back. Then, Durza flipped him over and drew a rusty knife covered with Seithr oil and cut across his chest, continuing until all that remained were open wounds covering his entire torso. Eragon was amazed to hear no sound come from his body._

_ Clearly displeased that there was no reply, Durza said, "Well, I guess I'm going to need to be a little more _persuasive_." Two soldiers grasped him and led him to the rack, where they promptly strapped him in place. As he was stretched, Eragon felt his joints dislocate and his tendons snap, unable to take the stress. Still, he did not utter a single sound._

_ Finally, Durza decided that physical torture was not enough. He invaded Eragon's mind, trying to cause as much pain as possible. However, when he reached a certain area, he found a solid wall that he could not overcome. Durza snarled when he could not breach the wall, knowing that what he sought was contained there._

_ All of a sudden, Durza pulled out of his mind. He stood there, thoughtfully, for a second, then grinned. "Well, elf, it seems that you are to go to King Galbatorix in a week's time. Rest assured, elf, he _will_ get what he needs out of you." And with that, he strode away. The soldier picked him up, carried him back to his cell, and dropped him on the floor, re-shackling his wrists._

Eragon came to himself in a gasp. He shuddered, trying to throw off the afterimages of the terror he had just seen. Across from him, Arya simply nodded and moved back towards the fire, as if she had expected this reaction. Eragon just sat there, trying to process what exactly had happened to her.

_"Eragon,"_ said Saphira gently. _"I know what you have seen is hard to imagine, but please, do not dwell on it. You have asked Arya to forget about it, now heed your own advice. This is in the past, and there is nothing we could have done to change it."_

_ "I know what I told her, Saphira, but seeing this, this…atrocity, it's almost too much for me to bear. I only wish I hadn't killed Durza so fast, so that he could suffer for what he has done to her,"_ Eragon angrily responded.

"Now you know why I was loath to share that with anybody," Arya said, shaking Eragon out of his trance.

Eragon shook his head. "I can't believe what Durza did to you. It's almost too much for me to take. He tortured you like that every day?"

Arya nodded. "Sometimes it was worse, sometimes it was better, but he never gave me any time to collect myself, as my food contained a magic-suppressing drug as well as the Skilna Bragh. He made sure I received the Tunivor's Nectar antidote every day, and healed me whenever it seemed I might die from my wounds. He did that so I would remain alive and sane, trying to get any valuable piece of information out of me."

Eragon shivered, despite his proximity to the fire. "Forgive me, Arya Dröttningu. I have underestimated the amount of pain you have endured, as well as your mental strength. I will not make the same mistake again."

Arya favored him with a weak smile. "I forgive you, Eragon. I understand your actions, as I would do the same to you if you were in my position."

"Thank you, Arya," Eragon said.

"No, Eragon. Thank you," she replied.

"What for?"

"For being there when I needed you most."

A long silence reigned as Eragon thought of something to say in reply. Finding that he couldn't, he instead decided to say, "It is late. We should sleep, as we are going to need our energy for tomorrow."

"Agreed," Arya responded.

And with that, they laid down between Saphira and the fire, eventually falling into their waking dreams.

**Well, how was that? I tried my best to describe Arya's torture, but I'm afraid it wasn't very good. I just thought that there was no way for her to continue living as she was while the painful memories kept eating away at her. This also shows how much she trusts and, yes, cares for Eragon. I have a surprise waiting for you in the next chapter concerning those two.**

**Rock on!**

**ROK**


	3. Chapter 3

**Hey guys! Thanks for all the great reviews! I will try to update this as much as possible, but I know you all know that there will be circumstances and I won't update as fast. Bear with me, I WILL get this done! (At least, I really hope so)**

**Also, I realized that the excerpt where the wall falls towards Roran is in the beginning of the book. That's my mistake, but I thought it out and I think that it would fit better if it was further on in the story. Also, that means I'm going to move King Cat further back in the book. I'm sorry, but I would have to do some flashbacks to introduce plotlines, and I hate doing that. Plus, I could add a little of my own embellishments to the story.**

**Dagibsta: Yeah, I noticed that it was a little forced. Unfortunately, I am not good at writing Saphira like CP does, what with all the hyphens and everything. I think I had the same problems in this chapter. Hey, I tried, right? **

**Disclaimer: I don't own any recognizable parts of the Inheritance Cycle.**

**Chapter 3**

Saphira was the first one awake in the morning. She yawned, stretched, and then turned her head to look at her partner-of-mind-and-heart and the elf princess with him. What she saw amused her greatly. During the night, Eragon and Arya had managed to close the distance between them, so that Arya slept peacefully with her head against Eragon's chest. Saphira lay there, content to let them wake up and find out what they had inadvertently done overnight. She figured that Arya would be either angry or embarrassed, while Eragon would be just embarrassed.

Saphira basked in the sunlight filtering into the clearing, letting the early morning sun bounce off of her body. Her scales were shining beautifully, hence the name _Bjartskular_, or Brightscales, that the elves had given to her. She thought, and not for the first time, that she was the most beautiful creature in all of Alagaësia. After all, a dragon was the most majestic creature in the world, and since she was a female, she was more striking than the males.

Her thoughts were interrupted when she heard Arya awake first. She yawned and stretched like Saphira, and then froze. When she had stretched, she had felt Eragon behind her. Quickly, she jumped six feet away from Eragon, who blissfully continued sleeping. Arya looked up and saw Saphira watching her.

Casting her thoughts out to the elf, Saphira said mischievously _"Did you sleep well, Arya?"_

Arya's cheeks reddened at her tone. _"You saw me?"_ she asked, even though she knew the answer.

_"Yes. You looked very comfortable resting against Eragon."_

Arya groaned, then thought _"Please don't tell him about this. I don't want to get his feelings up right now. I don't know what my feelings are for him yet, but when I figure them out, I will be sure to tell him."_

Saphira said _"I won't tell Eragon, but you would be wise as to spend some of what little spare time you have trying to figure your feelings out. I know what Eragon feels through our connection. His feelings for you have not changed; if anything, they may have become stronger in the past year. However, he has come to peace with the fact that chasing after you is folly, and would rather keep your friendship than try to pursue you. Therefore, he will wait, even if it's a thousand years, until you come to terms with your feelings and let him know what they truly are."_

_ "Thank you, Saphira. I will heed your advice,"_ Arya responded. _"Although the depth of his feelings frightens me a little, I am glad to hear that Eragon will not chase after me, as I would just be a distraction to him."_

Saphira emitted a low growl from her throat. _"You are being a distraction right now, as he spends a good portion of his waking—and sleeping—hours trying to keep you out of his mind. You will always be a distraction to him during war, and the only way to keep him from thinking about you is to completely break his heart and flee somewhere where he will not find you. And I, as his dragon, will not let happen. Be comfortable with the fact that you are what you are to him."_

_ "I will," _Arya reassured. At that moment, Eragon woke up.

Eragon shifted in his sleep, and then opened his eyes. He dimly heard Saphira talking in his head through their link, but she fell silent as he stood up shakily. He could feel her amusement at something, but she kept that part from reaching him. Eragon realized that Arya was standing next to Saphira. He turned towards her and saw an emotion on the previously unreadable mask, one that seemed to be embarrassment or shame. As quickly as he saw it, it was gone. Eragon grabbed Saphira's saddle and put it on top of her, jumped on, and felt Arya climb on behind him not a second later.

"Are you ready?" he asked her.

"Yes," she replied, again putting her arm around his waist, albeit this time a little hesitantly. As Saphira flew towards Gil'ead, Eragon briefly thought of the events of the previous night. Then he turned his mind to what had occurred that morning. He had never seen Arya look that way before.

_"Saphira?"_ Eragon asked.

_"Yes, little one?"_

_"What were you and Arya talking about this morning?"_

Saphira mentally sighed. _"I'm afraid that you are going to have to wait until Arya deems it the right time to tell you. I told her that I would not tell you without her permission."_

_ "Knowing the elves, it could take her centuries to tell me,"_ Eragon grumbled.

_ "If she has not told you by the time you kill Galbatorix, I'll force her to tell you."_

Eragon laughed. _"No one, not even Arya, would be able to argue with you, Saphira,"_ he said.

Arya's presence slowly entered their mind. _"How long until we reach Gil'ead?"_ she asked, not bothering to verbalize it, knowing that the wind would carry the question behind her anyway.

_"We should be there by late morning,"_ Eragon replied, and Arya's mind retreated.

_"That was odd,"_ Eragon commented. _"Although I'm sure she's acting this way because of the _event_ that happened this morning that the two of you won't share."_ The only response was Saphira's throaty laughter.

Two hours later, Gil'ead came into view. The city was surrounded by the sprawling mass of the elven army, hunkered down in their tents so as to not disturb the daily lives of the civilians. Eragon felt Arya shudder behind him, as she was no doubt reliving the events that occurred to her here. Eragon himself shivered, as he remembered the last time he had seen the city from this angle.

_Little-stinging-hornet-arrows bounced off his belly as he rose above the scattered wood-caves of the two-legs-round-ears. The air was smooth and firm beneath his wings, perfect for the flying he would need to do. On his back, the saddle rubbed against scales as Oromis altered his position._

_ Glaedr flicked his tongue out and tasted the enticing aroma of burnt-wood-cooked-meat-spilled-blood. He had been to this place many times before. In his youth, it had been known by a different name than Gil'ead, and then the only inhabitants had been the somber-laughing-quick-tongued-elves and the friends of elves. His previous visits had always been pleasant, but it pained him to remember the two nest-mates who had died here, slain by the twisted-mind-Forsworn._

_ The lazy-one-eye-sun hovered just above the horizon. To the north, the big-water-Isenstar was a rippling sheet of polished silver. Below, the herd of pointed-ears commanded by Islanzadí was arrayed around the broken-anthill-city. Their armor glittered like crushed ice. A pall of blue smoke lay over the whole area, thick as cold morning mist._

Eragon let the memory go and cast his mind out around him in all directions. He felt Saphira, Arya, and a dim presence that he established was Glaedr's Eldunarí. He pushed him mind further down, towards the city, and was rewarded when he found Queen Islanzadí.

She lowered the walls around her consciousness enough to allow him to speak to her. _"Atra esterní ono thelduin, Islanzadí Dröttning."_

_ "Atra du evarínya ono varda, Eragon Shadeslayer," _she replied curtly.

_"Un se mor'ranr lifa unin hjarta onr. Saphira is coming in to land, Your Majesty. Is there a specified area for her?"_

_ "Yes. It is in the northeast, between the city and the lake."_

Eragon sent her his thanks and withdrew from her mind. He directed Saphira to the indicated spot in the maze of tents below them. When she landed, Eragon noticed a sapphire blue tent pitched next to an emerald green one. Apparently, Islanzadí had been notified that Nasuada had wanted he and Arya to stay as close to each other as possible during their trip. He grimaced and dropped down to the ground, Arya following him. She murmured something to him about not wanting to be disturbed and immediately walked into her tent, not bothering to acknowledge any of the elves that had surrounded them. Eragon watched her go.

_This is going to be tough on her,_ he realized. He had but one memory of her torture in Gil'ead, and that was already gnawing at him. Arya, however, had around a hundred in her mind, all forcing themselves upon her when she least wanted it. Eragon shook his head, greeted the elves as a whole, and then walked into his own tent to prepare to meet Queen Islanzadí.

After pulling on a sapphire blue tunic, he shaved with magic and ran his fingers through his hair, trying to tame it. Finally, he decided he was presentable and walked through the elves' camp until he reached their headquarters. He was immediately recognized and allowed entrance into Islanzadí's tent.

"Greetings, Shadeslayer," Islanzadí said, skipping over the formal greetings.

"Greetings, Islanzadí Dröttning," Eragon replied.

Islanzadí frowned then, noticing an absence in the room. "And where is Arya?" she asked.

"She is in her tent, and she told me that she does not want to be disturbed at the moment," Eragon answered, noticing the scowl that came across Islanzadí's slanted features. "I am under the impression that she will arrive soon."

"Very well, Shadeslayer. You know that today at sunset we will perform the funeral of Oromis and Glaedr, the last of the Old Order of the Dragon Riders. As Oromis's pupil, you will be expected to speak on his behalf," Islanzadí said.

"I do, and I have started to prepare a speech that will honor Oromis and Glaedr, knowing that they have not given their lives in vain."

"Then you may go and finish what preparations need to be made for yourself."

Eragon turned around to exit the tent and almost walked into Arya, who was walking in. "My apologies, Arya Dröttningu," he said, then continued out of the tent, leaving the two to talk in privacy.

He sensed Saphira dozing on the ground next to his tent and realized that he had forgotten to take her saddle off. Eragon quickly ran through the camp until he reached her and took it off. She remained lying down on the ground, although she sent him a thought of gratitude. Eragon entered his tent and worked on his speech until it was ready. Noticing that it was almost sundown, he grabbed the bag containing Glaedr's Eldunarí and walked out to Saphira.

Oromis and Glaedr lay side by side where they had fallen, to the northwest of the city, as Glaedr was too big to be moved except by magic. Tears welled up in Eragon's eyes when they approached the majestic dragon and his Rider. He noticed Queen Islanzadí, Arya, Lord Däthedr, Vanir, and a few other elves he recognized gathered near the bodies and he headed in their direction.

All the elves were silent when Queen Islanzadí began her speech. She praised Oromis for his valor, wisdom, and honor, and Glaedr for his strength, speed, and tenacity. She knew that they would be happy that they had died trying their hardest to defeat the dark king. After she finished, the elves applauded and Arya stepped up to the podium. She spoke for a little while, then stepped down. Other elves came and went. Finally, it was Eragon's turn.

He stepped up to the podium and addressed the gathered crowd. "Elves of Du Weldenvarden, we are gathered here today to mourn the death of Oromis, he who was known as the Mourning Sage and the Cripple who is Whole, and Glaedr, the dragon of the gold scales. As mine and Saphira's mentors, they taught us everything we needed to know about being a true Dragon Rider. They put their faith in us to end this conflict once and for all and establish peace in Alagaësia." He paused, then resumed.

"Oromis and Glaedr were strong, wise, and above all caring. Oromis was always there to help me, no matter what the situation was. While they may have had their physical difficulties, they did not let said difficulties stop them from achieving what they truly desired. They died in battle honorably, although it took an underhanded blow from Galbatorix to kill them. As it is, I would not be standing here right now if it wasn't for their tutelage. It was truly an honor to be their pupils." He turned towards the two of them, laying peacefully on the ground.

"Thank you, Oromis and Glaedr, for everything you have done for us, the elves, and all of the free people of Alagaësia. You will be truly missed."

Silence reigned for a minute, until a long, low note wafted from the crowd. It was immediately picked up by many others, creating a mournful tune. Words were sung in the ancient language, and Eragon's skin prickled as he listened. While he did not understand all of the words, he realized that it was a song that described the end of something old and the beginning of something new. Eragon could feel an indescribable emotion and an immeasurable amount of energy flow into him from Saphira. She stood up, pointed her snout at the gold dragon and Rider, and said _"My gift to you."_

When she touched her snout to the two, the ground began to dissolve underneath them. Soon, the ground had swallowed them up. Suddenly, the ground began to shake, and something appeared out of nowhere, flashing a brilliant light. When the light dimmed, everybody gasped in awe and wonder at what was wrought.

It was a huge golden statue depicting Glaedr, with Oromis on his back standing on the Crags of Tel'naeír. Their eyes practically shone with wisdom, and Oromis was smiling gently. Eragon just stood there, not believing what he saw with his eyes. _"Saphira, that is amazing!"_ he said to her. _"How did you manage to do that?"_

_ "I don't know,"_ she replied. _"I could feel the emotions in the air, and I knew what I wanted to do. A surge of energy came to me and I just did it without thinking."_

Eragon thought for a second. _"Just like Isidar Mithrim," _he said.

_"Exactly."  
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Then, the setting sun cast its light directly on the statue, which reflected the light even more brilliantly. Glaedr practically looked like he was going to spread his wings and fly out of the statue. A loud roar was heard, and a powerful mental voice emanated from the air.

_"Thank you, Eragon Shadeslayer and Saphira Bjartskular, for honoring us with this statue._"

Eragon froze, knowing about the Eldunarí. However, the rest of the elves didn't seem to notice, so he realized that he was the only one who heard it.

_"Saphira, was that who I thought it was?" _he asked excitedly.

_"Glaedr has awakened,"_ Saphira replied, just as excited. However, when Eragon looked at the Eldunarí, it looked almost exactly the same. He knew that it was Glaedr that had spoken, but it seemed as if he returned to his thoughts immediately afterward.

"Thank you, Eragon and Saphira, for this extraordinary gift," Islanzadí said, quieting the crowd. "I'm sure Oromis and Glaedr would be proud of you."

Later that night, as Eragon lay in his tent, he could only think about the great gold statue that adorned the final resting spot of his mentors. He and the other elves had placed wards around it in order to preserve it. He fell into his waking dreams, still thinking about Oromis and Glaedr.

The next morning, he awoke to birds singing outside his tent. He threw on a tunic, packed up his bags, and put on Saphira's saddle. He turned around when he heard somebody approach him. To his surprise, he saw it was Arya.

"That was an amazing gift you gave them, Eragon and Saphira. Now they can rest in peace."

"Thank you, Arya. Are you ready to leave?" he asked.

"Yes. I believe that we should leave soon, if we are to get back to the Varden in a timely manner," she responded.

And so, with the farewell calls of the elves, Saphira flew as fast as she could back towards Feinster. They had decided to fly through the night in order to reach the Varden early the next morning. Eragon stayed up through the night with Saphira, watching for anything that could pose a threat to them.

The sun found them the next morning southeast of Belatona and drawing closer to the Varden's camp outside of Feinster. Eragon sat in the saddle, not moving, so as to not disturb the sleeping elf that sat behind him, resting her head on his back. He looked to the east and saw the vast expanses of the Hadarac Desert, then looked to the west and saw the sea. Finally, he looked ahead and could just make out the camp.

Eragon cautiously sent out his mind to Arya. _"Wake up, Arya,"_ he said, trying to wake her up gently.

She stirred, then slowly sat up in the saddle. _"Where are we?" _she asked with her mind.

_"We are about fifteen minutes from the Varden,"_ he answered. Sure enough, Saphira started to descend to make her landing in the clearing specifically set aside for them. _"Where is Nasuada?"_ he thought.

_"We did not alert her of our presence,"_ Saphira said. She sounded tired. Eragon knew that all she wanted was a nice nap.

"We need to report to Nasuada, Arya," he said out loud. They left Saphira and slowly made their way through the tents to Nasuada's red command tent.

The leader of the current shift of Nighthawks, a young, strong human, banged his shield and announced, "Eragon and Arya Shadeslayer to see you, my Lady." Eragon blushed. _Was it just me, or did he announce us like we were married?_ One look at Arya confirmed his thoughts; her cheeks were red with embarrassment as well.

Nasuada came out of the tent, saying, "Hello, Eragon and Arya. I didn't realize you'd be back so soon."

Eragon smiled, "We felt that we would be more needed here, so we left yesterday morning, flew all night, and got back a few minutes ago. Saphira is resting after the long flight, otherwise she would be here."

"You look like you could use some rest as well, Eragon," Nasuada commented, looking at his drawn face.

"I stayed up through the night to help Saphira," he replied. His eyelids drooped as he fought to stay awake.

"Well, I'll let you get back to your tent. Goodbye, Eragon, I'll see you tomorrow when we commence the march of the Varden's soldiers to Belatona." Nasuada entered her tent and left him and Arya alone.

"I should get some rest," Eragon said, even though it was obvious.

Arya gave him a little smile. "Tomorrow we start the war grind again. Make sure you get enough rest," she said awkwardly.

Eragon grinned. "I will." There they parted, Arya heading to her tent while Eragon walked towards his own. Saphira was already sleeping outside his tent. Eragon dropped into his bed and instantly fell into what his sleep had become, thinking about Oromis, Glaedr, and Arya while his waking dreams played themselves out in front of him.

**Ugh, I didn't like that chapter as much as my other ones. And I won't keep writing chapters that start with them waking up and end with them falling asleep. That's just bad writing. I hope that I can update every other day, but I can't guarantee that. Any advice would be helpful.**

**Rock on!**

**ROK**


	4. Chapter 4

**Thank you guys for all of your reviews! Here's Chapter 4!**

**Collier World, thank you as well for realizing my "problem" in the first couple chapters. **

**Galby'sapimp, unfortunately, no OC will become a Rider. It's actually painfully obvious who it's going to be, but I'm trying to write like CP, and all that he's done has pointed to one character and one character only!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own any recognizable parts of the Inheritance Cycle.**

**Chapter 4**

Eragon wandered aimlessly through the camp, watching the men of the Varden prepare for the march to Belatona. Here and there he saw tents being disassembled, husbands hugging wives and family, and soldiers cleaning their weapons. Eragon knew that some of these men would not be waiting in Belatona for their families to arrive. However, he envied their blissful countenance towards the war. They were the Varden, but _he_ was the very symbol of the hopes and dreams of all of the free races. He could not be unprepared, for if he was, he could be captured or killed and the Varden would be crushed soon after. Eragon held the weight of thousands of people on his shoulders, and if he faltered even one step, then all of them would fall off.

Such were Eragon's thoughts as he slowly walked between the tents. He was drawn to the sounds of metal striking metal, and without realizing it, he walked to the practice field. Here, he saw soldiers working on their fighting technique, sparring with someone else. Most used swords, while a few used hammers.

One hammer user stood out from the rest. He took on two swordsmen and one who also fought with a hammer at the same time. He blocked, pirouetted, and swung his hammer with practiced ease. As Eragon watched, the man disarmed one of the swordsman with a blow to his wrist, then "killed" him. Then he quickly turned and blocked a hammer strike with the shaft of his hammer. He spun around and knocked the sword of the second swordsman so hard it flew out of his grasp. He put his hammer to the swordsman's head and called "Dead." Not wasting any time, he knocked aside the hammer of the last soldier and, continuing with the stroke, pretended to give a killing blow to the chest. All of the soldiers shook hands, then the winner turned around. Eragon laughed. _Of course it's Roran. Who else would it be?_

Roran noticed him then. He quickly strode over to his cousin and clapped him on the back. "Eh, cousin, what are you doing here?"

Eragon laughed again. "Watching you singlehandedly beat three men at once, Stronghammer. What else?"

Roran grinned. Then he pulled out his hammer and swung at Eragon. Eragon grinned as well, pulled out Brisingr and parried the blow. He quickly blocked the edge of his sword with magic, so that he didn't accidentally injure Roran, then slashed at Roran. Eragon was careful not to use his full strength, as he could beat his cousin in a matter of seconds, but held back so that the battle could continue.

After ten minutes, Eragon found a huge opening in Roran's defense. He twirled Brisingr in a circle, twisting Roran's hammer out of his grip, then flicked the tip of his sword up to his neck. "Dead," he called, and Roran grimaced.

"That was a bad mistake I just made," he commented.

"Don't worry about that," Eragon replied. "If you were facing a regular soldier, you would have defeated him before it even came to that, as well as the fact that said soldier would not be strong enough to disarm you with just a sword."

"True," Roran realized. He grinned. "Thank you for sparring with me, for while I know I'll never win, I last longer every time." Eragon was about to say something when a musical voice rang across the field.

"Beating your cousin, while an impressive feat for a normal soldier, is child's play for a warrior of your caliber. Let's see what you can do with me, Shadeslayer." Eragon turned around and found Arya walking towards him with her sword drawn and a smile on her face.

Eragon smiled, "With pleasure, Shadeslayer," and got into a defensive stance. The rest of the Varden stopped fighting and gathered around to watch the two greatest fighters in the Varden spar against each other. Eragon and Arya circled around each other, waiting for the other to strike. A bird crowed, but other than that, silence reigned.

With a sudden movement, Arya lunged at Eragon. He swiftly parried the blow, then retaliated with a slash of his own. Arya blocked the swing, and both jumped away, waiting for another opportunity. This time, Eragon moved first, swinging at her head but changing direction in mid-swing and slashing towards her hips. Arya didn't fall for the decoy, however, and stopped his move with her sword. The two carried on with their deadly dance.

They moved faster than the untrained eye could see, their swords flashing in the light. Every time Eragon thought he saw an opening, it quickly disappeared and he was forced to back off as Arya rained blows down on him. However, Arya never seemed to be able to find a flaw in his defense either. They continued to fight. For what seemed like hours, the spar dragged on, with the observers rooted to the spot. They had never seen a battle like this before, and they wanted to see who would emerge the victor.

After an hour, Eragon was starting to drag. He could see that Arya was beginning to lose strength in her blows as well. He gathered all of his strength and swung Brisingr as hard as he could. The force of the swords clashing together was so strong that it overwhelmed the tired fighters. Their swords flew in opposite directions, and Eragon and Arya fell backwards to the ground.

Eragon looked at Arya, and Arya looked back at him. Neither was willing to continue the fight. "Draw?" Eragon asked her quietly. She nodded, too tired to answer. They stood up and shook hands. They turned around and finally realized the huge crowd that had gathered around them when they roared their appreciation.

"That was amazing!" someone exclaimed. Eragon looked and saw Roran was watching them with a look of awe on his face. Eragon flushed slightly, then picked up Brisingr and headed back to where Saphira was resting. As he sat next to Saphira, he heard light footsteps coming in his direction. They were too graceful to belong to a human. He raised his head and saw Arya.

"Hello, Arya," he said quietly.

Arya sat down next to him. "That was an impressive display of swordsmanship, Shadeslayer," she said.

"You're not bad yourself, Shadeslayer," he said with a small smile.

Arya made an annoyed noise. "My apologies, Eragon. I forgot about our shared titles."

Eragon gave a small laugh. "It's okay, Arya. I know you don't mean to say that. I just like to tease you about it."

An uncomfortable silence followed. Finally, Eragon mustered up the courage to ask, "How do you manage what happened to you at Gil'ead?"

Arya sighed. "I thought that we had finished talking about that, Eragon."

Eragon persisted. "You showed me one memory from that blasted place, and I've woken up shaking, believing that the same thing was happening to me. You have many more than I do. I just wondered how hard it is for you."

"It's not easy," Arya said. "I often used to wake up with nightmares because of what Durza did to me. However, I used the method I described to you outside Eastcroft, and they fade away. However, since I have confided in you, I have been resting easier at night, knowing that they will not bother me again.

"Well, you gave me those nightmares," Eragon grumbled good-naturedly. He would gladly suffer from nightmares in order to make sure Arya would not. They sat there in a moment of friendly silence, then Arya stood up and said, "I must pack up my belongings and prepare for the march. I will see you later, Eragon." She walked away, leaving Eragon to stare at her. He shook his head and made his way to find Nasuada.

He found her at the front of the line of soldiers that were all ready to march to Belatona. Nasuada was leading the army, along with King Orrin, Jörmundur, and Roran. She had left Martland Redbeard in charge of the troops that remained in Feinster. Nasuada glanced at Eragon as he approached.

"Are you ready, Eragon?" she asked.

"Aye," he replied.

"Then let us march." One of the Nighthawks blew a small horn, and the mass of soldiers started to move north.

The march to Belatona had begun.

**Well, what do you think? This was basically a filler chapter. I tried to bring Arya and Eragon closer together, but in a way that wasn't too rushed. Stay tuned for a surprise POV next chapter.**

**Rock on!**

**ROK**


	5. Chapter 5

**Hey, guys! I just gotta say, I never expected almost 30 reviews for my first 4 chapters. You guys are awesome! And all of you say you like the story, and some of you have even helped me by leaving constructive criticism. Thank you guys so much!**

**Legoarf, I tried. However, I just can't seem to write longer chapters. I'm sorry, but this length is where I write the best.**

**The M.H.T. of R. (love your pen name), I did that without referencing it. However, I added a sentence that should clear that up for you. Check Chapter 3 again.**

**Dagibsta, I'm sorry to disappoint you, but we're not going to Belatona just yet. Be patient, we'll get there. But we have to visit a friend first…**

**Disclaimer: I don't own any recognizable parts of the Inheritance Cycle.  
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**Chapter 5**

Murtagh strode through the castle, angrily slamming the door when he reached his room. So many questions were running through his mind. Why did he have to kill the elder Rider and dragon in Gil'ead? Why did Galbatorix treat him so harshly if he was supposed to be "the most prized possession" he had? That is, other than the hundreds of Eldunarí he controlled, of course. Why did Eragon, his own brother, have to tease him with false hopes changing his true name and breaking Galbatorix's bonds on him? But most of all, why did he have to go on that blasted mission to kill the remaining Urgals underneath Farthen Dûr, where the Twins killed Ajihad and forced him back to Urû'baen?

All of these questions were tormenting Murtagh as he fell into his bed. He knew that the only person to blame was Galbatorix, his master. However, Murtagh could do nothing to stop him, as the oaths he had been forced to swear in the ancient language, with his true name, prohibited him from disobeying Galbatorix, although he did have some choice when it came to how to interpret and perform his orders.

_"Then use those choices, Murtagh,"_ a voice growled in his head. _"I hatched not for a coward, but for a brave and cunning warrior."_

Murtagh started. _"Thorn?"_ He totally forgot about his dragon, which was strange, considering they were bonded together.

_"Foolish you are, Murtagh. You know I will always be there to help you," _Thorn comforted.

Murtagh cringed inwardly while thinking _"Yes, Thorn, I know."_ He hated how stunted Thorn's thoughts were. It was the result of the king's meddling in dark magic in order to make Thorn grow bigger so he could fight Saphira easier. It made his body grow, but his mind had suffered greatly in return.

_"You know how much I hate needing this to fight Brightscales. I never have _wanted _to fight her. So big, so beautiful, so fast, so-"_

_ "All right, Thorn, I get it," _Murtagh replied with a hint of a smile. _"I already know how much you like Saphira. I don't need you telling me every chance you get."_

_ "Yes, but you are out of your mood. That's what I wanted," _Thorn roared triumphantly. _"Now, visit me, I'm getting bored with only Shruikan for company."_

Murtagh sighed. _"I can't argue with you, my strong dragon. I'll be there soon," _he thought, rising up out of his bed.

He quickly maneuvered the roaming hallways of the large castle to the top, where the dragonhold was located. Here was where Thorn resided, along with the black, twisted Shruikan, who was currently flying over the city. Murtagh respected the dragon, mad as he was, as he knew that he could never have survived being intimately linked with a madman. As it was, Murtagh's close proximity to the king was affecting his sanity already. Yet Shruikan continued living as the years went by, although he was crazed most of the time. However, there were moments when he was sane enough to help Murtagh and Thorn endure the punishments Galbatorix inflicted on them.

Thorn lifted his head when Murtagh walked in and lifted his lips over his teeth in the equivalent of a dragon smile. Murtagh smiled back, but it was devoid of emotion. He was trying to avoid looking at the blunt end of Thorn's tail, which was bitten off by the golden dragon Glaedr near the end of the battle at Gil'ead. When he had felt Thorn's pain, he cried out and his thoughts lost coherence, but he had felt Galbatorix lash out with Zar'roc at the irate dragon, and was no doubt as surprised as Murtagh and Thorn when Glaedr failed to defend himself and Zar'roc buried itself in the base of his skull, killing him instantly.

_"Murtagh, stop thinking these thoughts. We had no choice,"_ Thorn snarled.

Murtagh grimaced. _"Yet we will still be blamed for their deaths," _he remarked bitterly.

Thorn looked at him sadly. _"Your brother blames you not. For he must have known that Galbatorix possessed you."_

_"I hope so,"_ Murtagh responded sadly. _"Otherwise, my last living relative will want to kill me."_

_"Murtagh, if Eragon wanted to kill you, he would not have told of your only hope to escape the egg-breaker."_

_"Do you really think that will work?"_

_ "We can always try. Besides,"_ Thorn turned his head sadly to look at his still-mutilated tail, _"we will have at least two weeks before the king's dark magic fully heals my tail and together we can fly again."_

Murtagh felt his anger rising inside of him again. _"Why did that golden dragon do what he did to you?"_ he asked.

_"Because Galbatorix had just killed his Rider. He was mad with grief. And here is where something Eragon said we can use," _Thorn continued. _"Release your anger, Murtagh. It is a key to your nature, and through that, your true name. If you change your ways, your true name will change."_

Murtagh subconsciously clenched and unclenched his fists. _"So you want me to release my anger. What do you suggest next to change my ways, help the homeless out in the Black City?"_ he asked sarcastically.

However, Thorn, as usual, completely missed the inflection of his voice. _"Yes!" _he roared triumphantly. _"Now you have the idea!"_

Murtagh started to reply angrily, but then stopped as he contemplated what Thorn had said for several minutes. _"Do you think that I can change enough to get out of Galbatorix's clutches?"_ he asked hesitantly, not truly believing it.

Thorn snorted, shuffling his wings. _"You can do almost anything when you put your mind to it, Murtagh. I have faith in you that you _will_ change."_

_ "Thank you, Thorn,"_ Murtagh said gratefully. _"You've opened my mind to things I previously considered impossible."_

_ "You're welcome, Murtagh,"_ Thorn replied._ "Now, we have two or three weeks to change you. The first part, releasing anger, is your choice, and is solely within your power. I cannot help with that. However, I can help you with showing kindness and generosity to the less fortunate people of the city. We should do that as soon as possible, as that may help you release your anger."_

_ "Agreed. Although we will have to obtain permission from Galbatorix. And I know he won't let us go out to help. If anything, he'll want me to do the opposite!_" he complained.

_"Then tell him that you want to go out into the city and "remind" the citizens who could "rebel" about the king's power,"_ Thorn suggested.

Murtagh grinned. _"Great idea, Thorn! I'll tell him that. I just hope that he'll be complacent and not check my mind too closely for the real reason."_

He left the dragonhold and gradually made his way down to the throne room. It was the last place he wanted to be, but he knew it was necessary in order to receive permission to leave the castle. He sucked up his courage and knocked on the imposing wood door.

"Enter," Galbatorix's voice boomed.

Murtagh swallowed and opened the door. He slowly walked up to the throne and kneeled before the dark king.

"Ah, Murtagh. Just the Rider I wanted to see," Galbatorix said, his voice as smooth as honey. "I have just received word from Shruikan, who was flying over the city, that there is a small group of peasants that are trying to start a revolt against me. I would like you to go out there and 'correct' their mistake."

"Yes, my king."

"I don't necessarily want you to destroy them on sight. You should try to infiltrate their small group and brutally eradicate them from the inside. Now, go. You cannot use Thorn, you know."

"I understand, my king," and then Murtagh walked out of the throne room, not believing his good luck. _"Thorn?"_ he asked questioningly.

_"I simply asked Shruikan when he returned to report a false rumor to the king so that we could leave the castle. Galbatorix's hold on him is weak, because he trusts Shruikan to a point. When he is not crazy, he can deceive the king,"_ Thorn answered happily.

_"I can't believe you could do that!"_ Murtagh exclaimed.

_"Neither could I. However, did it I did, and you have some freedom."_

_ "Thank you, Thorn. I am in debt to you."_

_ "You can repay me by changing your true name, defying Galbatorix, and joining the Varden."_

Murtagh chuckled. _"We'll take it one step at a time. You never know what's going to happen."_ Despite his caution, he felt…_happy_, for probably the first time while he was under Galbatorix's rule.

He finally reached his room again, and began to pack for his "mission". All of his possessions that marked him as a Dragon Rider, namely Thorn, Zar'roc, and the Eldunarí, he had to leave behind. Murtagh decided to take only his clothes, all black, an unnamed hand-an-a-half sword, and some coins. He walked out of his room and down the winding halls and stairs until he reached the huge main doors of the castle. The doorman recognized him, hailed him, and opened the doors so Murtagh could leave.

Outside it was raining, as it almost was inside Urû'baen. Murtagh thought that Galbatorix controlled the weather inside the Black City, making it rain perpetually, to show his power over his subjects. He sighed and donned his cloak, trying to keep as dry as possible as he descended the levels of the city from the castle to the rundown, poor areas at the outskirts of the city near the walls.

Murtagh passed from the middle level to the lowest level. What he saw there shocked him. In the space one normal sized house would occupy, there were half a dozen shacks clustered together, each in utter disrepair. The streets were clogged with trash, and people were huddled together trying to stay warm. Their clothes were ragged and torn, and were hardly adequate to keep the cold rain off of their body.

Murtagh could not believe the living conditions of the poor. He actually _could_ believe that the beggars would start an uprising, because of the way they were treated. His eyes moved from person to person, who shamefully looked up at him for a second. _These people are scared of me,_ he realized. _In their eyes, I am a nobleman who would not want to waste his time helping them._

As he moved through the narrow streets, Murtagh's eyes chanced to settle on a little girl, no older than six, who was trudging along the side of the road. She was extremely thin and wore clothes filled with holes and no shoes. Murtagh decided right there that he had to help her. He walked over to the girl and carefully draped his cloak over her shoulders. Startled, the girl turned to look at him.

"You may keep it," Murtagh said gently, not wanting to scare her away. He reached into his pocket and pulled out some of the coins he had brought with him. "Here you go," he said and gave her the coins. Her eyes widened, and she looked at him in wonder. Suddenly, she turned and quickly ran into one of the buildings. Murtagh smiled and continued walking, thankful that he had helped her.

Over the next week, when he was supposedly performing his "mission", he was actually traveling around the city, helping whomever he could. It helped that Galbatorix did not bother to check up on him, assuming his oaths would control his actions. However, Murtagh found a loophole in the king's words. He said he "would like" Murtagh to destroy the fake uprising, but he didn't say he "had" to. Therefore, Murtagh had some leeway in what actions he chose to perform.

At the end of the week, he returned to the castle, his mindset truly changed. He knew now what he needed to do to release himself from Galbatorix. However, he still feared his report to the king. Murtagh had never been able to lie to him, due to the oaths. He didn't know whether he had changed enough of his nature to allow him to lie. Gathering up his courage, he knocked on the door to the throne room.

"Enter," he heard Galbatorix say in a bored tone.

Murtagh pushed open the doors and walked into the room. He stopped before the throne and kneeled, still playing the subservient slave.

"Rise, my fine young Rider," Galbatorix purred, obviously pleased. "I'm sure you have…_eradicated_ the rebels in my city?"

"Yes, my king." Murtagh was astonished. He _could _lie to the king now. However, Galbatorix was not completely sure.

"Are you sure, Murtagh? Do I need to break into your mind again to find out what truly happened?" he asked derisively, his mood swings bearing more evidence of his insanity. Murtagh swallowed. He had created a memory of killing the beggars, but it was fashioned off of the Battle of Farthen Dûr, and his opponents there were Urgals. He wasn't sure if the king would be able to see through the ruse. However, outwardly he just shrugged.

"It happened how I told you, my king," he said in a monotone.

Galbatorix smiled. "Good, my boy. You are truly starting to be more like your father than ever before. You are dismissed. Oh, and check up on Thorn for me. He should be almost fully healed."

Murtagh left the throne room in a mix of awe and hate. He was awed that he was finally starting to break away from Galbatorix, but he hated how he was compared to his father. _No, he was never my father. Tornac was more my father than _he_ was!_ he thought. Then, an idea came to him. _I wonder, is that how Eragon has dealt with being the son of Morzan? Has he released him from his mind and thought of another as his true father?_ Murtagh didn't know, but as he reached the dragonhold he promised himself to look into the concept further.

Thorn raised his head as Murtagh walked in, and Shruikan growled out a greeting. Murtagh smiled and rubbed Thorn's scales.

_"So, how'd it go?"_ Thorn asked excitedly.

Murtagh chuckled at his eagerness, but then sobered up when he remembered the situation of the citizens outside the castle. _"I have realized that I need to be more caring and thoughtful towards people, and not treat them poorly. However, my anger only increased when I saw what they had to live with."_

_ "That is the next step to your release,"_ Thorn said quietly, _"and Shruikan and I have come up with a solution, when he wasn't totally insane."_

Shruikan raised his head. _"I heard that, hatchling. In order to change your name, young one, you need to let go of your anger towards the two people who have caused you the most hurt. Galbatorix and Morzan._

Murtagh was stunned. His anger started to build up yet again. _"There is absolutely no way I can release my anger towards them! You both know what they have done to me!"_ he exclaimed harshly.

The air shook as Shruikan snarled. _"Peace, young one. We said release your _anger_, not your _hate_. While you can hate Galbatorix and Morzan, it is your anger towards them that has allowed the king to control you by your true name. You need to treat them with apathy, instead of anger."_

Murtagh shuddered as the anger left him. _"I will try, but I am not certain of the outcome."_ Then, he remembered what Eragon had told him over the battle of the soldiers-who-feel-no-pain. He squared his shoulders and thought, _I'm doing this for you, brother._

**Before you start to yell and scream at me, Thorn's stunted mental growth is NOT PERMANENT! Do you understand? He will be normal when he is out of under Galbatorix's control.**

**Did you like it? Did you hate it? Did you feel absolutely no emotion towards it? Leave me a review and let me know!  
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**By the way, legoarf, this chapter was longer than all my others, except for Chapter 3.**

**Rock on!**

**ROK  
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	6. Chapter 6

**What's up guys? I figured that this should be the chapter where I incorporate CP's first sneak peek, "Into the Breach". That means that Chapter 9 will be his second, "King Cat". I've basically moved them back five chapters to introduce some revealed plotlines. After that, we get into the winter months, and since there will be no actual fighting going on (I think), I've cooked up some "other" events to appease your hungry appetites for updates to this fanfiction.**

**Tadashi, we'll get there in the next chapter or two, I promise. I hope you are pleased with the outcome.**

**Galby'sapimp, Murtagh is dark when he is around other people. Here, however, he is by himself (roughly speaking), so I have portrayed his emotions more. Remember, he is also starting to change.**

**The M.H.T. of R., thank you very much! I felt so happy when I read your review. It made want to post this today.**

**Dagibsta, you got what you wanted. Onwards to Belatona!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own any recognizable parts of the Inheritance Cycle.**

**Chapter 6**

Eragon lurched slightly in the saddle as Saphira abruptly altered her course and snapped at a bird flying by. _"Saphira!"_ he reprimanded, but he couldn't keep a small smile from coming onto his face.

_"I'm sorry. That bird was annoying me,"_ she said simply.

Eragon sighed. They were flying high above the clouds, so high that Saphira looked like a bird in the sky. They were embarking on the last scouting mission before the Varden besieged Belatona. Nasuada had told him to assess the military preparations that the Empire had taken to attempt to ward off the Varden when they arrived at the walls.

He looked down at the city in the setting sun, and took a minute to appreciate it for what it was truly worth. Belatona was the city of craftsmen and artists, and it seemed that they had taken matters into their own hands when they created it. All of the houses were intricately designed to be functional and beautiful. Eragon marveled at the architecture of the city, and was hit with a wave of sadness when he realized that most of the city would be destroyed in the fighting unless he could figure out a way to keep the battle out of Belatona.

He shook his head to clear his thoughts and focused on the walls of Belatona. He noticed that there were few catapults and ballistae, but plenty of places for archers to rain havoc down on the Varden. That was something that he and Saphira would have to take care of at the start of the battle. He also noticed that most, if not all, of the Empire's soldiers were positioned at the gates, while the citizens of the city that were loyal only to their governor, Lord Bradburn, were closer to the center of the city. It struck him as odd to see this, as he would have thought they would be evenly spread out. A plan started to form in Eragon's head.

_"Saphira, we can return. I have seen enough,"_ he told her, and she swiftly turned and headed back to the Varden's makeshift camp. If the Varden played their hand right, they could defeat the Empire's soldiers without harming the citizens.

Ten minutes later, Saphira landed on the edge of a clearing where the Varden was situated. Nasuada approached them, as always followed by her contingent of Nighthawks, as well as Jörmundur, King Orrin, and Arya. "Well, Shadeslayer, what did you see?" she asked.

Eragon dropped to the ground. "They have few anti-siege weapons, although there are plenty of archers. What confused me was that the soldiers of the Empire were situated solely at the gate, while the people of Belatona guarded the inside of the city."

Nasuada frowned. "What is the point of placing all of the soldiers at the gates? If we get past them, then the entire city will fall easily."

"I think that either there is a hidden group of soldiers in the middle of the city, or Lord Bradburn is trying to fool us," Eragon replied. "I have a suggestion for the battle plans." He paused. When Nasuada nodded he continued. "I say we draw the Empire's soldiers out of the city and fight them to the southwest, as they cannot escape to the north or east because of Lake Leona and the Jiet River, as well as the fact that we would be out of range of some of their archers. Regardless, Saphira and I will destroy the archers at the beginning of the siege. During the battle, the elves, Saphira, and I will infiltrate the city, destroy any enemy magicians, and attempt to capture Lord Bradburn, so that the citizens do not fight us."

King Orrin spoke up. "Well said, Eragon. Where did you learn such battle tactics?"

Eragon frowned. "I had good teachers," he said softly, not caring to bring them up again. He felt a hand brush his and realized it was Arya's. He looked at her and saw a comforting emotion in her eyes, but then it vanished and she turned back to the leaders.

Jörmundur said gruffly, "I don't think you and the elves should go in there alone, Shadeslayer."

Nasuada said, "I agree. I shall send a contingent of soldiers under the command of Roran Stronghammer to assist you when needed."

Eragon scowled. The last thing he needed was the Varden leaders doubting his abilities. "I…that is, _we_ do not need any help," he growled.

Nasuada, however, was unperturbed. "While I believe you, I am sending the soldiers regardless of what you say."

"Fine." Eragon abruptly turned away and returned to his tent. He realized how discourteous he had been, but he shoved it away and readied himself for the siege the next morning. After cleaning his and Saphira's armor and polishing Brisingr, he dropped into bed and waited for the next morning.

An hour before dawn Eragon woke up. He quickly donned his armor and put Saphira's saddle and armor on her. She quietly glided down to the front of the army, where the others were waiting. Arya quickly jumped up into the saddle behind Eragon, and Blödhgarm and the elves situated themselves around them.

"Are you ready, Shadeslayer?" Nasuada asked. Eragon nodded. She motioned to a warrior next to her, who blew the horn he was carrying. At once, the men of the Varden began to shout and ran forward, approaching the city. Saphira roared and let loose a jet of blue fire. She jumped up and flew towards the city. Eragon thought, _The Battle of Belatona has begun._

He saw the gates to the city open up, and the Empire's soldiers started filing out of the opening and reforming to the west. Eragon frowned. They had obviously tried to flank the Varden and push them towards the river and the city. A worried feeling squirmed in Eragon's chest. _What surprises are in store for us inside Belatona?_ he wondered.

Saphira dropped down onto the wall amidst a hail of arrows, although every one bounced off Eragon's wards. This caused many of the archers to flee in fear. Eragon and Arya jumped off her saddle as she quickly swung her tail around and smashed six of them over the wall, screaming as they fell to their deaths below. Saphira roasted a dozen more with her fire, and Eragon and Arya finished off the rest.

Only slightly panting, they climbed back into the saddle as Saphira glided into the city and joined the elves and the soldiers of the Varden sent with them. Interestingly, there did not seem to be any citizens trying to defend the city. Suddenly, a huge mental presence washed over everybody. Eragon retreated back into his mind, thankful that he finally had a full contingent of elven magicians to overcome any enemies. He motioned to Blödhgarm to jump on and Saphira flew towards the keep, the rest of the elves and the humans following behind.

Eragon felt Arya's presence in his mind, and he was soon linked to Blödhgarm and the other elves as well. He cautiously extended his mind, ready to grapple with the magician if needed. He sensed a group of people blocking their minds to him. He showed Arya and Blödhgarm the location of the group. They were in the center of the keep, presumably Lord Bradburn's throne room.

Saphira landed at the top of the keep and Eragon, Arya, and Blödhgarm jumped off with their swords extended and entered the next room. There were three magicians in the room, just like Feinster. Eragon attacked one, and out of the corner of his eye he saw Arya and Blödhgarm rush at the others.

He extended Brisingr and sharpened his thoughts into a mental dagger and thrust it at the man. However, it bounced off of thick, smooth armor. Abandoning that attempt, he slashed at the magician, who barely parried his blow. Eragon smirked. The magicians were talented at keeping their minds blocked, but they were deficient in the art of the sword. He feinted left and then twisted Brisingr in a circle and decapitated the magician.

He turned to the left and saw that Arya had already finished off her magician. Blödhgarm, however, seemed to have chosen the leader, as they were engaged in a tough duel. However, as he watched, the man grimaced in pain and muttered something under his breath before Blödhgarm ended his life. Suddenly, a earsplitting shriek drove them all to their knees at its strength.

(Text from Inheritance Ch.1, _Into the Breach)_

_The sound was stabbing, slicing, shivering, like metal scraping against stone. Eragon's teeth vibrated in sympathy, and he covered his ears with his hands, grimacing as he twisted around, trying to locate the source of the noise. Saphira tossed her head, and even through the din, he heard her whine in distress._

_Eragon swept his gaze over the courtyard twice before he noticed a faint puff of dust rising up the wall of the keep from a foot-wide crack that had appeared beneath the blackened, partially destroyed window where Blödhgarm had killed the magician. As the squeal increased in intensity, Eragon risked lifting a hand off one ear to point at the crack. "Look!" he shouted to Arya, who nodded in acknowledgment. He replaced his hand over his ear._

_Without warning or preamble, the sound stopped._

_Eragon waited for a moment, then slowly lowered his hands, for once wishing that his hearing was not quite so sensitive. Just as he did, the crack jerked open wider—spreading until it was several feet across—and raced down the wall of the keep. Like a bolt of lightning, the crack struck and shattered the keystone above the door to the building, showering the floor below with pebble-sized rocks. The whole castle groaned, and from the damaged window to the broken keystone, the front of the keep began to lean outward._

_"Run!" Eragon shouted at the Varden, though the men were already scattering to either side of the courtyard, desperate to get out from under the precarious wall. Eragon took a single step forward, every muscle in his body tense as he searched for a glimpse of Roran somewhere in the throng of warriors._

_At last Eragon spotted him, trapped behind the last group of men by the doorway, bellowing madly at them, his words lost in the commotion. Then the wall shifted and dropped several inches, leaning even farther away from the rest of the building, pelting Roran with rocks, knocking him off balance and forcing him to stumble backward under the overhang of the doorway._

_As Roran straightened from a crouch, his eyes met Eragon's, and in his gaze, Eragon saw a flash of fear and helplessness, quickly followed by resignation, as if Roran knew that, no matter how fast he ran, he could not possibly reach safety in time._

_A wry smile touched Roran's lips._

_And the wall fell._

(Text © 2011 by Christopher Paolini.)

**Cliffhanger alert! You all knew this was coming at some point, I hope. CP has left it like this, so I will, too. Don't worry, I'll update soon enough! By the way, this isn't the full battle scene yet. I'll get there soon.**

**Rock on!**

**ROK**


	7. Chapter 7

**OK, guys. Here's the thing. I just don't think I can finish this story any more…nah, just kidding! I wouldn't do that to you guys unless I had a really, **_**really**_** good reason. So, we shall continue. Thank you all for your kind comments. I love how this story is developing!**

**SimplySupreme…Wow! Just, wow! Guys, if any of you have read SimplySupreme's review, **_**that's**_** how to make an author love you! Say the stuff you like, give the author some stuff to work on, and then end with a compliment and a good luck going forward. Thank you so much, "Soup"! (yes, I read your bio). I will work on getting myself into a certain character's thoughts and actions when I am in their POV. By the way, that review must have come **_**really**_** close to the 10,000 character barrier, right?**

**And here we go into Chapter 7!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own any recognizable parts of the Inheritance Cycle.**

**Chapter 7**

"NO," Eragon screamed, his voice full of anguish and agony. Without thinking, he immersed himself in the magic inside of him and froze the forty foot wall in midair while simultaneously yanking Roran and the rest of the men of the Varden out of harm's way. When he felt they were safe, he released the magic.

White lights exploded in his vision as the magic drained his strength. Eragon felt himself fall to the floor of the keep. He opened his mouth to call for help, but he couldn't summon enough energy. He dimly heard Saphira roar _"Eragon!"_ into his mind, as well as a similar yell from someone behind him, and he tried to keep his hold on reality. But he didn't have the strength, and he fell into unconsciousness.

_Eragon dreamed of his childhood with Roran. His memories played themselves out in his mind. "Hey, Eragon, I bet you can't catch me!" yelled a young Roran as he ran down the dusty road towards the barn. Eragon looked and noticed himself as a small boy, no older than five, trying to catch up to his older cousin. The two boys laughed and yelled as they played hide-and-go-seek, tag, and other child's games. Soon, however, Garrow called them, and they dutifully stopped and trotted back to the house, still smiling._

_ His memories shifted and Eragon perceived Garrow, Roran, and himself in Carvahall. He was eight years old, and the traders had come to sell their wares in the village. Eragon was by himself, crying in the streets, as Roran fought a couple of bullies for taunting Eragon and calling him a bastard. His memories became fuzzy until he saw Roran, bruised and bloodied, hugging little Eragon and saying, "I won't let anybody call you names, Eragon. I'll fight them if they do."_

_ He felt himself skip forward again and realized that it was the dead of night. He observed Roran at age sixteen climbing a tree situated against a house, while he waited below in case Roran fell. He knocked on the window, and Eragon saw Katrina come into view, with a huge smile on her face. He sat against the tree for hours, half-listening to Katrina and Roran, until the sun started to rise over the horizon, at which Roran descended the tree and the two young men returned to the farm. Eragon saw Garrow chastise the two boys for being up all night, but then chuckled at Roran's face and said "Aye, you are a lovestruck fool. If you ever want her for a wife, you're going to need to get a job, you know."_

_ Eragon came to the memory of Roran leaving Carvahall to be apprenticed in Therinsford. He saw himself looking distracted, probably because of Saphira, as Roran walked out of the house and towards the village of Carvahall, on his way to Therinsford. He saw Garrow frown at his nephew and Roran look back one more time, not realizing that this would be the last time he would see his father alive…_

_ Abruptly his memories faded away, to be replaced by his waking dreams. Eragon knew he was coming back to consciousness, but he let himself see this waking dream, because it depicted Roran looking at Eragon. It had to have been while he was asleep, because he was lying down on a bed and Roran was almost in tears. Eragon wanted to say, "It's all right. I'm coming back," but no words came out._

Eragon cracked open his eyes, but the light inside the tent blinded him. He quickly screwed his eyes shut, waiting for them to adjust before he opened them again. The light was much more manageable this time, but he couldn't focus on anything. He could make out a large blur over in one corner, which was starting to become clearer. It was a person. He recognized the person as Angela the herbalist, as she came over to see to him.

Suddenly, she slapped him on the face. Eragon shot up, holding his hand to his cheek. However, he was not ready for the dizziness that accompanied the fast movement, and he fell back onto the bed. "What was that for?" he asked, his cheek still smarting painfully.

"Well, I wanted to wake you up," Angela said, her face grim, "and I wanted to let you know how much of a blockhead you were. You do realize that, by all rights, you should be floating in the void right now. It took almost all of Arya and Blödhgarm's energy to secure your hold on the world. Not to mention the fact that you could have done either one of the pieces of magic, not both, and they would have survived. Also, you used magic without the ancient language, which is much more tiring than normal use. Add all of this together and this makes you the biggest blockhead in Alagaësia! And you did this just trying to save your cousin from a magician's blasted self-destruct spell!" She continued on and on, but he began to tone her out.

Eragon was ashamed. He knew that Roran had survived, seeing him in his waking dreams, but he knew that he almost killed himself to save his cousin. _Really, I actually _did _kill myself, but Arya and Blödhgarm kept me alive with their life energy,_ he thought. His eyelids drifted closed, and a thought came to him.

"Angela, how long was I out?"

"Two days," she answered briefly, then went back to yelling at him.

_Two days!_ Eragon thought wildly, his eyes snapping open. _Oh gods, how is Saphira faring? And Arya, Roran and Nasuada? The Varden in general? Angela was right, I am the greatest fool in all of Alagaësia!_

"Well, it's good to know that you agree with me." Eragon jumped. He didn't realize that his mental barriers were down and Angela could hear his thoughts. "Also, your friends are all fine, and the Varden is the same as usual. Although," Angela commented with a dry laugh, "you'll be surprised at how much emotion Arya showed. I've known her for many years, and I've never seen her like this before. She's always been a stoic person, and she almost lost it when this happened." Still muttering to herself, she left the tent.

Eragon was left by himself. _"Saphira!" _he cried, trying to send out his consciousness into the camp. Suddenly, his mind was shattered by a large mental shout.

_"ERAGON!"_ Saphira roared, letting all of her happiness at his awakening engulf Eragon. _"Eragon, what were you thinking out there?" _she snarled, abruptly changing her mood.

_"I wasn't,"_ Eragon replied shamefully. _"I wasn't thinking, and it almost got me killed. I won't let it happen again."_

_ "You better not."_

_ "How is Roran?"_ he asked, eager to change the subject.

Saphira grunted. _"Better than you, obviously. He came out without a scratch, along with the other twenty-odd soldiers you moved with magic. They were all worried when they saw Arya and the wolf-elf leave carrying you."_

_ "I guess I ought to apologize to Nasuada, as well as the elves, for my actions two days ago."_

_ "Yes, you should."_

Eragon's conversation with Saphira was interrupted when he saw Arya walk into the tent. He smiled at her, and she scowled and slapped him on the face, exactly where Angela had hit him.

"Hey!" Eragon shouted. "Angela's already slapped me there, as well as yelled at me for several minutes about my actions."

"Good," Arya snapped. "Maybe, with the number of people calling you a blockhead, you just might realize how stupid you really were that night."

"I am aware of the repercussions of my actions," Eragon said, lowering his voice to an almost inaudible whisper. "However, my instincts kicked in at that point and I did what I could to save Roran. Yes, I might have overdone the effort-"

"Might?" interrupted Arya.

"Fine, I overdid it, but now, none of it matters. I am alive and healthy, as is Roran," Eragon finished.

"Yes, but the point of the matter is to make sure you don't make the same mistake again. That if you saw Nasuada, me, or Roran again in the same position, that you don't overexert yourself to save us. You are the Varden's only hope, Eragon, and without you, this entire war is pointless." Arya turned away, but Eragon still perceived the raw emotion that filtered through her words. _Angela was right. My foolishness has had an effect on all of my friends,_ he thought.

Aloud he said, "My apologies, Arya Svit-kona. I will not make the same mistake again. And thank you for saving my life yet again."

Arya didn't answer him for a few moments, and Eragon began to think that she hadn't heard him, when she said, "No, Shadeslayer, I am sorry for snapping at you. I just…" she broke off, and Eragon let it go.

Instead, he asked, "What happened afterward?" He didn't want to bring up his mistake in conversation again.

Arya scowled. "Lord Bradburn escaped in a tunnel underneath the city with his nobles. Nasuada has confirmed that his loyalties are still with the king, as he was one of Galbatorix's staunchest supporters. I believe that he is waiting there until more of the Empire's soldiers arrive from Dras-Leona."

Eragon nodded. "And what of the battle outside the city?"

Her scowl deepened. "We won the battle, but it cost us many of our troops. We could barely hold the city right now if another contingent of enemy soldiers arrives soon. Two days ago Nasuada sent a runner back to Feinster to bring more soldiers to Belatona. They should arrive soon."

Eragon closed his eyes. "And how do the elves fare, Arya?" He really meant her, but he didn't want to bring it up just yet.

She sighed. "We are enduring, Eragon," she responded, not caring to elaborate on the subject.

However, he would not let this subject go. He continued to gently prod her until finally she said flatly. "The other elves feel as if they failed you and, through you, the queen. They will not take this lightly, so do not expect it to go away."

A long silence ensued, before Eragon finally decided to ask the question he really wanted answered. "And how do_ you_ feel, Arya?"

Again, silence reigned until she answered coldly. "I feel as if you made a terrible mistake, but one that you have learned from and vowed not to make again. Now if you will excuse me, I have other matters to attend to." And with that, she stood up and curtly walked out of the tent, the flap blowing in the small breeze as she exited.

Eragon leaned back and closed his eyes. _I did not mean to offend her_, he thought to himself.

_"But you did, little one, even if you didn't mean it."_

_"Do you think I should apologize, Saphira?"_

She gave the mental equivalent of a snort. _"Do dragons have wings?"_

_ "I'll take that as a 'yes',"_ Eragon said, smiling despite his mood. He swung his legs over the side of the cot and slowly stood up. To his relief, the dizziness he had experienced earlier did not affect him, and he walked outside. He noticed that he was in Angela's tent, which was clear across the camp from the location of his tent. Then, Jarsha the messenger boy ran up to him.

"Yes, Jarsha?" Eragon asked kindly.

The boy stopped and looked at the sky as he said, "Lady Nasuada was informed of your awakening by Angela and requests your presence in her tent immediately, Shadeslayer."

"I will be there," Eragon replied, and the boy turned and ran back towards Nasuada's pavilion.

_"Saphira, will you go as well, or are you just going to stay basking in the sunlight in all your glory?"_ he asked jokingly.

Saphira laughed in his head. _"While the second option does sound great, I think that I should see my Rider again."_

_ "Then meet me at Nasuada's tent."_

_ "It's too late for that!" _Saphira bugled, and she dropped down out of the clouds above Eragon and grabbed him in one claw and took off again. Eragon laughed and poked Saphira's leg, in hopes that she would let him get on her back. However, she simply carried him in her claw until she reached Nasuada's tent. Nasuada was outside, with Nighthawks nearby, as well as Arya, King Orrin, and Jörmundur. They were all trying not to laugh at Eragon's unflattering position. Eragon scowled at his dragon, but then broke into a smile when he saw her grinning wolfishly at him.

Eragon turned to his friends and faked being upset with them. "Enjoy the show?" He tried to snarl, but that just seemed to rile them up even more, and a grin replaced the snarl on his face. Soon, they were all laughing so hard it was drawing the attention of the Nighthawks and Eragon's guards. Eragon contained his mirth enough to ask, "You summoned me, Nasuada?" At once, Nasuada sobered up and, with the dignity only a leader possessed, replied, "Indeed, Shadeslayer. I am glad to see that you have awoken and that there seems to be no permanent damage to your system."

"Thank you, my Lady." By now, everyone else had stopped laughing and they entered the tent. Nasuada motioned to Jörmundur, and he began to speak.

"We drove off the soldiers of the Empire, Shadeslayer, but it was a costly victory. I'm sure you are aware of the next plans?" Eragon nodded. "Very well. Also, Lord Bradburn has disappeared in a tunnel system underneath the keep. We have no doubt that he is asking for reinforcements to retake Belatona, as he has been corrupted by the king into serving him unwaveringly."

"What are we going to do with the citizens of Belatona?" Orrin asked.

"I am going to ask them if they would allow the Varden to stay here throughout the winter." It was Nasuada who answered. "The general consensus among the citizens is that they didn't really look up to Lord Bradburn, and were plotting to remove him from power. Some of the people do not care for the Varden, and others are vehemently denying us any hospitality, but the majority of the civilians will house the soldiers of the Varden and their families during the winter. When we reform and march on Dras-Leona in spring, I am hopeful that some of them will join us."

"But what are we going to do if Lord Bradburn attacks?" Arya asked. Eragon was surprised. She rarely, if ever, spoke at the war council meetings. It was a facet of her personality that she held her peace and rarely talked unless someone asked for her explicit opinion on a certain matter.

Jörmundur frowned and replied, "We have started to take measures to barricade the entrances to the tunnels inside the city. However, there may or may not be exits outside the city. We shall assign men to look for them, but something tells me that we will not find them until it's too late."

A short silence followed, until Eragon yawned. He tried to cover it up, but Nasuada noticed. She said, "I believe that is everything we wanted to cover. Eragon, thank you for joining us today, and I am glad to see that you have recovered from your ordeal. Angela said you should try to get some rest. You are dismissed."

"Thank you, my Lady," Eragon replied. King Orrin and Jörmundur echoed her, and he responded to them in turn. Arya, however, just gave him the briefest of nods and walked out of the tent. Eragon sighed and followed her, determined to apologize. She walked quickly through the camp, not stopping until she reached her tent. Eragon stepped towards her and said, "I apologize, Arya Svit-kona, for my behavior earlier today."

Arya slowly turned around and replied, "No, Eragon, I am sorry. You were only asking for my well-being, and I did not treat it as such."

Eragon said, "I value our friendship, Arya, and I would not like to see a petty argument such as this affect it."

Arya gave him the briefest of smiles and said, "As do I." She bid Eragon goodbye and turned and entered her tent. Eragon walked back to his tent, tired but happy that he and Arya had resolved their differences.

_"Do you want to fly, little one?"_ Saphira asked him.

_"Of course, Saphira!"_ Eragon exclaimed, his exhaustion forgotten. He quickly jumped on top of Saphira, who rose up into the air. They flew around the city, watching the people below go about their daily business. Then, Eragon picked up a sense of mischief coming from Saphira. _"What are you thinking about?"_ he asked her, not truly expecting a response.

Saphira didn't reply, but snapped in her wings and dropped towards the clear blue waters of Leona Lake. Eragon yelled in delight as they fell, and Saphira roared in response. She dove into the lake, and Eragon opened his eyes to see a whole new world below the water. Saphira flew up out of the lake and Eragon cast a spell to dry the two of them off. They hovered in the air, truly enjoying their flight. _"We are masters of the sky," _Eragon said to Saphira as they descended towards the Varden camp.

She landed in her clearing near his tent. He jumped down and scratched her jaw. She hummed in delight and said, _"Good night, little one. I missed you, and I'm glad that you have recovered."_

_ "Good night, Saphira. I love you."_

_ "I love you too."_

Eragon lay down on his cot and, all too quickly, the world around him dissolved into his waking dreams.

**So, what did you think? Tell me all your innermost thoughts and feelings in a review! (well, not **_**everything**_**! That would be weird. Keep your rambles to the story, OK?) I have the next three chapters already planned out, and I just have to make finishing touches. Hooray for quick (yet high-quality, I hope) updates!**

**Tadashi, I hope you liked this. I had Eragon almost die, and Arya had to come in and save the day.**

**Rock on!**

**ROK**


	8. Chapter 8

**Hey guys! Sorry about how long this chapter took (3 days-Yikes!), and how short it is for the amount of time it took (2,600-ish words). Oh, well. I'll get the next one up tomorrow to make up for it. Great news, guys! We hit the 50 review mark last chapter! That means that there are more than 7 reviews per chapter on average. Keep it up!**

**(anonymous reviewer Huh), **_**Eragon**_** almost killed himself. The last free Dragon Rider in Alagaësia. It took all of the combined knowledge of the elves and Angela to keep him alive. If he would have died, the Varden would have been pummeled by Galbatorix. It was too close for their comfort, and he only did it to save his cousin. I agree it was a noble thing to do, but in their world they think that there is no room for such actions in war, especially for their greatest hope.**

**SimplySupreme, thank you again. You don't know how much it means to me when I see that you've left a review. I always know that it will be a good one. I was going to do something with the elves, but it didn't fit to well, so I'm going to get to the elves here in just a moment.**

**Eradon son of awesomeness, I agree, it was a bit forced. I'm sorry, I'll try to do a better job in the future. Thank you for your suggestion.**

**Dagibsta, I wanted to portray Eragon's time seeming shorter than two days, so that he was surprised and relieved that he survived, but also the realization that he came to the brink of entering the void. However, I didn't get that exactly how I wanted, and it obviously came out confusing and rushed. Also, since you wanted to see more detail in the fighting scenes, here you go.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own any recognizable parts of the Inheritance Cycle.**

**Chapter 8**

During his sleep, Eragon heard someone shout, "Shadeslayer, the Empire is attacking!"

Eragon snapped out of his waking dreams and realized that one of his elven guards had burst into his tent. Then he heard Varden's war drums began to beat. Eragon swore and rushed to get himself ready. He shot a parting glance over his shoulder and asked "Is Saphira ready?"

"We are attending to her right now, Shadeslayer," the elf answered as he ducked out of the tent.

Eragon nodded and continued putting on his armor. He strapped on the Belt of Beloth the Wise and attached Brisingr to it. Satisfied that he was prepared for battle, he turned and ran outside. Several elves had just finished putting Saphira's armor and saddle on her. Eragon turned to Blödhgarm and said, "Thank you, Blödhgarm, for readying Saphira for me."

"You are welcome," Blödhgarm answered shortly.

After a pause, Eragon added, "I never had a chance to thank you, Blödhgarm, for saving my life three days ago inside Belatona. Eka elrun ono." Blödhgarm just nodded in reply, his eyes seeming bitter. Eragon sighed and jumped into the saddle. As Saphira flew away he wondered, _Does Blödhgarm think I am a fool as well?_

_ "_Everyone _thinks you are a fool."_

Eragon scowled. _"And your snide comments are not helping me, Saphira,"_ he snapped. Saphira just growled in response. _"And I thought you had forgiven me,"_ he thought to her.

_"I have,"_ Saphira answered grumpily. _"I am just upset that the Empire had to attack so early and ruin the good sleep I was enjoying."_

Eragon laughed. _"Once we have defeated these soldiers, you can get as much sleep as you want. Believe me, I'm tired as well."_

Saphira alighted on a knoll at the front of the Varden. A mile to the northeast, on the other side of the Jiet River, was a black mass that was steadily growing larger. Nasuada and the Nighthawks approached him. He remained where he was on top of Saphira, but he bowed as well as he could.

"How many soldiers do you think there are?" Nasuada asked.

Eragon shaded his eyes from the morning sun, thankful that his elven eyesight allowed him to discern the enemy numbers from such a distance. "I would put their numbers between one thousand and twelve hundred," he answered.

"That means that these must be the soldiers who feel no pain, because there would be no point in sending such a small force of regular soldiers."

"I agree, my Lady," Eragon replied grimly. "We will be able to tell when they reach the Jiet River," he added thoughtfully.

Nasuada frowned. "How so?"

"If they take their time and find an orderly way to cross the river, then they are normal soldiers. If they just barge straight through, not caring about the rest of their company, then they are the painless ones."

Behind him, Eragon could see the soldiers of the Varden filing into ranks and preparing for battle. He could see Roran at the head of one of the groups of men. Surprised, he jumped down and hailed Roran.

"I see you have been put in command of a larger group of soldiers for this battle," Eragon commented.

Roran stepped forward and crushed Eragon in a bear hug. Laughing Eragon disentangled himself from his cousin. "Aye, Nasuada needed another general, as she had left behind Martland and two others to oversee Feinster. She promoted me," Roran said, smiling.

"And there are none better qualified than you?" Eragon asked teasingly.

"No, for I am the fearless Roran Stronghammer, he who took down nigh on two hundred men by himself," Roran responded, puffing out his chest.

"Stay safe, cousin. I do not have the strength to pull another stunt to save your life," Eragon said, only half-jokingly.

Roran immediately sobered up. "Thank you, Eragon, for saving my life and those of the soldiers, even though it almost cost you your life as well."

"You're welcome," Eragon said. Looking back to the east, he realized that the soldiers from the Empire had almost reached the Jiet River. He turned back to his cousin and said, "I need to return to Saphira. Nasuada and I will inform you and the rest of the generals as to the type of soldiers we will be facing today."

Roran's face hardened into a battle-ready look as he bid Eragon farewell. Eragon nodded and quickly weaved his way back to the front, where he stood next to Saphira. Blödhgarm and the rest of the elves had formed around her, ready to attack at the slightest notice of an enemy magician. He looked up and saw that the soldiers had plunged recklessly into the river, confirming his belief that these were painless soldiers. Eragon quickly contacted each magician scattered throughout the Varden, telling them to relay the message to their commanders that they were facing soldiers who feel no pain. They acknowledged him in turn, and he returned to himself to prepare for the upcoming battle.

A musical voice rang out from the left. "Are you ready to fight, Shadeslayer?"

Eragon turned, already knowing who it was. "Indeed I am, Shadeslayer." He could see Arya blush slightly at the title, but because they were in public she could not reprimand him for using it. Instead, she looked at him for a moment, then turned away, not saying anything to him. The first of the painless soldiers had crossed the river. They spotted Eragon and Saphira and emitted an inhumane laughter, running straight for them. Saphira rose into the air and breathed fire at the first row, burning them to cinders, but was only somewhat effective at stopping them. Eragon let out a war cry and rushed straight towards the soldiers, knowing that the elves and the Varden were following right behind him.

He reached the first soldier and engaged him. Eragon swung quickly at the man, Brisingr shimmering in the light. The man parried the thrust, laughing the entire time. Eragon quickly launched at the man and thrust into his stomach, wounding him. The man dropped to the ground, and Eragon decapitated the man, knowing that this was the only way to kill the soldiers.

He turned and saw the elves were attacking the enemy soldiers as well, with the Varden right behind them to kill any stragglers. He looked forward and saw that half of the enemy was already across the river. Saphira flew overhead, burning those that had just crossed, but she otherwise stayed out of the battle.

Eragon ran at the next group of soldiers, five in number, who were advancing together. The first man's face was burned off, and he laughed through his revealed jaw. He couldn't hold his sword well in his burned hands, and Eragon finished him off with only a single blow to the head. Two of the others swung their swords at him, but they both swung high. Eragon ducked under and watched their swords clash above his head, and then swung Brisingr upwards. The men's swords flew out of their hands, and Eragon jabbed at the two of them, bringing them to the ground.

He turned backwards, knowing that there were still two left standing, and parried the two swords thrust at him. These soldiers were better trained, and it took him five minutes to dispatch the first with a slash through the neck, and the second with a thrust through his eye. He looked at the two men he had wounded, and one of them had grabbed his sword and was crawling towards him, while the other was still reaching for it. Eragon grimly looked at the two and beheaded them quickly.

He turned back to the seemingly never-ending line of soldiers. He was thankful that Saphira was here, as she was able to burn every man that came towards them, making it easier to defeat them. However, he still gained wounds throughout the day as the enemy soldiers refused to die. A soldier lying on the ground cut his arm before Eragon could finish him off, and another one he had knocked down had recovered and slashed him in the stomach as he was dueling three men at once. However, none of his wounds were serious, and he waited to heal them until the battle was over.

Eragon realized that there were still about six hundred enemy soldiers left, while the Varden had already suffered almost a thousand casualties. Without him, Saphira, and the elves, it would have been a lot worse, he realized. He glimpsed Roran about twenty yards behind him, crushing in heads with his hammer. He also saw Blödhgarm and a couple other elves, using their grace and fluidity to seamlessly attack the soldiers, cutting down most of the ones in their path.

He turned around to fight the next group of soldiers, a group of about fifteen to twenty, who were in a circle around what appeared to be a helpless Varden soldier. Eragon felt his blood run cold as he recognized the black leather outfit and long raven hair of the warrior in the middle. With a huge yell, Eragon leaped into the circle, slashing off two heads as he jumped over. He quickly ran over to Arya, who was breathing heavily and was hunched over, holding her left hand to her side.

"Are you wounded?" he asked her while simultaneously deflecting three oncoming swords.

Arya's face was strained with pain, but she managed to answer with a straight voice. "I have a gash on my side, but it shouldn't kill me. Thank you for saving me," she added, as she parried two blows.

"No problem. We would both be dead many times over if it wasn't for the other saving us," Eragon replied. He looked at her briefly. "Together?" he asked.

"Together," she agreed. They stood together, back to back, and faced the remaining soldiers around them. They twisted, ducked, parried, and slashed, fighting off blows from the enemy. Finally, they killed all of the soldiers in the immediate vicinity. Panting, Eragon put his hand at her side and said "Waíse heill."

Arya's side knitted back together and she looked at him. "Thank you, but you know I was capable of doing that myself."

"Yes, but you have done the same to me," Eragon replied, healing his own wounds. He looked to the west and realized that he and Arya were alone on that area of the battlefield. The limited number of Varden soldiers available for defending the city had been driven back towards the walls of Belatona by the remaining four hundred painless soldiers. He cursed and started running towards the Varden, Arya following him.

_"Saphira?"_ he asked.

_"Yes, little one?"_

_"Could you possibly help out the Varden at the walls?"_

_ "I could,"_ she said, _"but I am running out of fire in my belly."_

_ "Do whatever you can to help them out, as there are no more soldiers for you to burn anyway,"_ Eragon finished, and Saphira flew west towards Belatona.

He and Arya continued back, fighting small groups of soldiers when needed. Then, he suddenly realized why the fighting was hard. Only half of the Varden's troops were outside the city. Roran rode up to them on Snowfire, his body splattered with blood.

"Roran, what's wrong? Why have the Empire pushed us back so far?" Eragon asked.

"More soldiers have appeared inside the city, doubtless through a tunnel exit that we did not find. Some of the men were commissioned to fight them, while the rest remained here. I fear that we are outnumbered," Roran answered, panting.

Suddenly, a horn was heard from the south. Eragon turned and saw men carrying the Varden flags approaching the city. _"The reinforcements!"_ he yelled out loud and in his mind. Saphira punctuated his statement with a roar. He could hear the tired soldiers of the Varden cheering as the fresh soldiers ran forward to flank the Empire. The three hundred painless soldiers remaining only laughed at the newest development.

Then, another group of shapes emerged from the west. Eragon shaded his eyes to look into the setting sun as he tried to perceive who was appearing. A cry arose from the west gates. "The werecats have arrived!"

**Cliffhanger! So, how'd you like it? The next chapter will begin with the werecats coming into battle, and will end with CP's other sneak peek, "King Cat", where Eragon and the Varden are introduced to Grimrr Halfpaw. I hope that I'll be able to get it up tomorrow, so that I get back the day I lost writing this chapter. Please, leave me a review. Suggestions, comments, concerns, criticism, praise, flames, whatever. I don't care what you say, as long as you review!**

**Rock on!**

**ROK**


	9. Chapter 9

**Hey! Thanks for all your reviews! I'm back with a new chapter, although only a small part of this is my work and the rest is CP's. This is his chapter 4, King Cat, along with a little bit of my work. Yes, I know that his **_**Inheritance**_** is going to be different, but I tweaked it to fit my style based on what a certain reviewer (cough SimplySupreme cough) has told me about injecting my own unique personality into the story, while also keeping to the guidelines that the original author has laid down.**

**Tyson, while I agree Eragon should help whoever he can, he should not endanger himself in battle. He can help out after battle with healing and stuff like that, but during battle, he cannot do something that could get him killed. He is the only hope for the Varden, no matter how slim that may be. About how evil Galbatorix is, remember, Eragon has heard much about him. The Varden, the elves, the dwarves, and even his own citizens (most of them, anyway) hate him. I'll even go a step further. Eragon was told by **_**Murtagh**_**, the son of his first right-hand man and current right-hand man, how mad and evil Galbatorix is. Also, I don't believe that Galbatorix will pummel Eragon. That's kind of ridiculous. First of all, CP wouldn't kill off the main protagonist like that, unless he pulls a J.K. Rowling and brings him back from the dead. CP says this cannot happen. Secondly, the Varden has found Galbatorix's source of power, and they know that they have to disconnect him from the Eldunarí he possesses. Finally, remember Solembum's prophecy. The second part states, **_**"When all seems lost and your power is insufficient, go to the Rock of Kuthian and speak your name to enter the Vault of Souls." **_**(Eragon, pg. 206, © 2003 Christopher Paolini). Therefore, Eragon will end up possessing some sort of power from the Vault of Souls that will allow him to defeat Galbatorix. Well, there's the end of my tirade. Take of it what you wish.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own any recognizable parts of the Inheritance Cycle.**

**Chapter 9**

Again the call came, "The werecats are here!"

Eragon, Saphira, and Arya watched as small shapes began to run out of the woods, attacking the Empire's soldiers with feral aggressiveness. The Varden cheered again, and immediately began fighting with a new vigor. Eragon jumped on Saphira and waited for Arya to follow before rising into the air and landing at the gates. However, they were not needed in the battle. Between the combined forces of the original Varden troops deployed to Belatona, the reinforcements from Feinster, and the werecats, they were able to rout the remaining painless soldiers outside the city.

Eragon ran into the city, with Arya following behind. Saphira flew overhead. Out of nowhere, it seemed, Blödhgarm and the rest of the elves materialized and joined them as they headed towards the skirmishes in the center of the city. Suddenly, old dreams began to play themselves out in front of Eragon's eyes. Realizing that these were his waking dreams, he shrugged them off and continued heading towards the keep.

He noticed that the soldiers were entering the city from the western gate. He deduced that the opening to the tunnel was outside the city.

"Drive them out of the city!" he yelled, and he and the elves sprang forward and pushed them towards the gate. The remaining Varden soldiers quickly followed suit. Finally, the enemy soldiers were forced out of the city. At that point, King Orrin rode up, followed by many of his cavalry.

"We shall take over, Shadeslayer. Nasuada has requested your presence inside the keep, as she is overseeing the pact between the Varden and the werecats. As her vassal, she needs you there," the king said.

"Very well," Eragon replied. He turned towards the city and, with the elves following, made his way towards the keep, where a few Nighthawks were guarding the entrance. He nodded at them and he and the elves were granted entrance.

As he walked up the stairs, he experienced another bout of his waking dreams. He faltered slightly as his dream world was superimposed over the real one. Only Arya noticed, however, as she asked him, "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," Eragon replied. "I am just so exhausted that my waking dreams are entering my mind." Arya nodded at this and dropped back to join the rest of the elves. Eragon walked into the throne room and saw Nasuada sitting down on the throne, Jörmundur standing to her left and an empty space to her right where he supposed he should stand. Suddenly, he entered his waking dreams again.

(Text from Inheritance Ch. 4, _King Cat_)

_"Where have you been?" demanded Garrow, the lines on his face harsh in the candlelight. "The horses need bringing in."_

_ Eragon did his best to ignore his waking dreams as he stood on the dais in the main hall of the keep, directly to the right of Lord Bradburn's throne. He placed his left hand on the pommel of Brisingr, which was sheathed, and adopted a more casual pose, hoping no one would notice his exhaustion._

_ On the other side of the throne stood Jörmundur, holding his helmet in the crook of his left arm. The hair at his temples was streaked with gray; the rest was brown, and all of it was pulled back into a long braid. His lean face bore the studiously blank expression of a person who had extensive experience waiting on others. Eragon noticed a thin line of red running along the underside of Jörmundur's right bracer, from some wound or another, but Jörmundur showed no sign of pain._

_ Between the two of them sat Nasuada, resplendent in a dress of green and yellow, which she had donned just moments before, exchanging the bright raiment of war for garb more suited to the practice of statecraft. She too had been marked during the fighting, as was evidenced by the white linen bandage wrapped around her left hand._

_ In a low voice, so that only Eragon and Jörmundur could hear, Nasuada said, "If we can but gain their support..."_

_ "What will they want in return, though?" asked Jörmundur. "Our coffers are near empty, and our future uncertain."_

_ Her lips barely moving, she said, "Perhaps they wish nothing more of us than a chance to strike back at Galbatorix." She paused. "But if not, we shall have to find other means of persuading them besides gold to join our ranks."_

_ "You could offer them barrels of cream," said Eragon, which elicited a chortle from Jörmundur and a soft laugh from Nasuada._

_ Their murmured conversation came to an end as three trumpets sounded outside the main hall. Then a flaxen-haired page dressed in a tunic stitched with the Varden's standard - a white dragon holding a rose above a sword pointing downward on a purple field - marched through the open doorway at the far end of the hall, struck the floor with the ceremonial staff he carried, and, with a thin warbling voice announced, "His Most Exalted Royal Highness, Grimrr Halfpaw, King of the Werecats, Lord of the Lonely Places, Ruler of the Night Reaches, and He Who Walks Alone."_

"A strange title that: He Who Walks Alone,"_Eragon observed to Saphira._

"But well deserved, I would guess,"_ she replied, and he could sense her amusement, even though he could not see her where she lay coiled in the keep of the castle._

_ The page stepped aside, and through the doorway strode Grimrr Halfpaw in the shape of a human, trailed by four other werecats, who padded close behind him on large shaggy paws. The four resembled Solembum, the one other werecat Eragon had seen in the guise of an animal: heavy-shouldered and long-limbed, with short, dark ruffs upon their necks and withers, tasseled ears, and black-tipped tails, which they waved gracefully from side to side._

_ Grimrr Halfpaw, however, looked unlike any person or creature Eragon had ever seen. At roughly four feet tall, he was the same height as a dwarf, but no one could have mistaken him for a dwarf, or even for a human. He had a small, pointed chin, wide cheekbones, and, underneath unswept brows, slanted green eyes fringed with winglike eyelashes. In the front, his ragged black hair hung low over his forehead, while on the sides and back, it fell to his shoulders, where it lay smooth and lustrous, much like the manes of his companions. His age was impossible for Eragon to guess._

_ The only clothes Grimrr wore were a rough leather vest and a rabbit-skin loincloth. The skulls of a dozen or so animals-birds, mice, and other small game-were tied to the front of the vest, and they rattled against one another as he moved. A sheathed dagger protruded at an angle from under the belt of his loincloth. Numerous scars, thin and white, marked his nut-brown skin, like scratches on a well-used chair or table. And, as his name indicated, he was missing two fingers on his left hand; they looked to have been bitten off._

_ Despite the delicacy of his features, there was no doubt that Grimrr was male, not given the hard, sinewy muscles of his arms and chest, the narrowness of his hips, and the coiled power of his stride as he walked down the length of the hall toward Nasuada._

_ None of the werecats seemed to notice the people lined up on either side of their path, watching them, until Grimrr came level with the herbalist Angela, who stood next to Roran, knitting a tube sock with six needles at once._

_ Grimrr's eyes narrowed as he beheld the herbalist, and his hair rippled and spiked, as did that of his four guards. His lips drew back to reveal a pair of curved white fangs, and, to Eragon's astonishment, he uttered a short, loud hiss._

_ Angela looked up from the sock, her expression languid and insolent. "Cheep cheep," she said._

_ For a moment, Eragon thought that the werecat was going to attack her. A dark flush mottled Grimrr's neck and face, his nostrils flared, and he stared silently at her. The other werecats settled into low crouches, ready to pounce, their ears pressed flat against their heads._

_ Throughout the hall, Eragon heard the slither of blades being drawn from their scabbards._

_ Grimrr hissed once more, then turned away from the herbalist and continued walking. As the last werecat in line passed Angela, he took a surreptitious swipe at the line of yarn that drooped from her needles, just like a playful house cat might._

_ Saphira's bewilderment was equal to Eragon's own. _"Cheep cheep?"_ she asked._

_ He shrugged, forgetting that she could not see him. _"Who knows why Angela does or says anything?"

_At last, Grimrr arrived before Nasuada. He stopped and inclined his head ever so slightly, displaying with his bearing the supreme confidence, even arrogance, that was the sole province of cats, dragons, and certain highborn women._

_ "Lady Nasuada," he said. His voice was surprisingly deep, more akin to the low, coughing roar of a male wildcat than the high-pitched tones of the boy he resembled._

_ Nasuada inclined her head in turn. "King Halfpaw. You are most welcome to the Varden, you and all your race. I must apologize for King Orrin's absence; he could not be here to greet you, as he wished, for he and his horsemen are even now busy defending our westward flank from a contingent of Galbatorix's troops."_

_ "Of course, Lady Nasuada," said Grimrr. His sharp teeth flashed as he spoke. "You must never turn your back on your enemies."_

_ "Even so. And to what do we owe the unexpected pleasure of this visit, Your Highness? Werecats have always been noted for their secrecy and their solitude, and for remaining apart from the conflicts of the age, especially since the fall of the Riders. One might even say that your kind has become more myth than fact over the past century. Why, then, do you now choose to reveal yourselves?"_

_ Grimrr lifted his right arm and pointed at Eragon with a crooked finger topped by a clawlike nail, shocking Eragon out of his latest round of waking dreams, which had involved an Urgal, a dwarf, and a pair of swords made of ice._

_ "Because of him," growled the werecat. "One does not attack another hunter until he has shown his weakness, and Galbatorix has shown us his: he will not kill Eragon Shadeslayer or Saphira Bjartskular. Long have we waited for this opportunity, and seize it we will. Galbatorix will learn to fear and hate us, and, at the last, he will realize the extent of his mistake and know that we were the ones responsible for his undoing. And how sweet that revenge will taste, as sweet as the marrow of a tender young boar._

_ "Time has come, human, for every race, even werecats, to stand together and prove to Galbatorix that he has not broken our will to fight. We would join your army, Lady Nasuada, as free allies, and help you achieve this."_

_ Whatever Nasuada was thinking, Eragon could not tell, but, for himself, he was impressed by the werecat's speech, as was Saphira._

_ After a brief pause, Nasuada said, "Your words fall most pleasantly upon my ears, Your Highness. But before I can accept your offer, there are answers I must have of you, if you are willing."_

_ With an air of unshakable indifference, Grimrr waved a hand. "I am."_

_ "Your race has been so secretive and elusive, I must confess, I had not heard tell of Your Highness until this very day. As a point of fact, I did not even know your race had a ruler._

_ "I am not a king like your kings," said Grimrr. "For the most part, werecats prefer to walk alone, but even we must choose a ruler to lead us to war when we go."_

_ "I see. Do you speak for your whole race, then, or only for those who travel with you?"_

_ Grimrr's chest swelled, and his expression became, if possible, even more self-satisfied. "I speak for all of my kind, Lady Nasuada," he purred. "Every able-bodied werecat in Alagaësia, save those who are nursing, has come here to fight. There are few of us, but none can equal our ferocity in battle. And I can also command the one-shapes, although I cannot speak for them, for they are as dumb as other animals. Still, they will do what we ask of them."_

_ "One-shapes?" Nasuada inquired._

_ "Those you know as cats. Those who cannot change their skins, as we do."_

_ "And you command their loyalty?"_

_ "Aye. They admire us... it is only natural."_

"If what he says is true,"_ Eragon commented to Saphira, _"the werecats could prove to be incredibly valuable."

_Then Nasuada said, "And what is it you desire of us in exchange for your assistance, King Halfpaw?" She glanced at Eragon and smiled, then added, "We can offer you as much cream as you want, but beyond that, our resources are limited. If your warriors expect to be paid for their troubles, I fear they will be sorely disappointed."_

_ "Cream is for kittens, and gold holds no interest for us," said Grimrr. As he spoke, he lifted his right hand and inspected his nails with a heavy-lidded gaze. "Our terms are thus: Each of us will be given a dagger to fight with, if we do not already have one. Each of us is to have two suits of armor made to fit, one for when on two legs we stand, and one for when on four. We need no other equipment than that: no tents, no blankets, no plates, no spoons. Each of us will be promised a single duck, grouse, chicken, or similar bird per day, and, every second day, a bowl of freshly chopped liver. Even if we do not choose to eat it, the food will be set aside for us. Also, if you should win this war, then whoever becomes your next king or queen - and all who claim that title thereafter - will keep a padded cushion next to their throne, in a place of honor, for one of us to sit on, if we so wish."_

_ "You bargain like a dwarven lawgiver," said Nasuada in a dry tone. She leaned over to Jörmundur, and Eragon heard her whisper, "Do we have enough liver to feed them all?"_

_ "I think so," Jörmundur replied in an equally hushed voice. "But it depends on the size of the bowl."_

_ Nasuada straightened in her seat. "Two sets of armor is one too many, King Halfpaw. Your warriors will have to decide whether they want to fight as cats or as humans and then abide by the decision. I cannot afford to outfit them for both."_

_ If Grimrr had had a tail, Eragon was sure it would have twitched back and forth. As it was, the werecat merely shifted his position, as if uneasy to be standing in one place for so long. "Very well, Lady Nasuada."_

_ "There is one more thing. Galbatorix has spies and killers hidden everywhere. Therefore, as a condition of joining the Varden, you must consent to allow one of our spellcasters to examine your memories, so that we may assure ourselves that Galbatorix has no claim on you."_

_ Grimrr sniffed. "You would be foolish not to. If anyone is brave enough to read our thoughts, let them. But not her," and he twisted to point at Angela. "Never her."_

_ Nasuada hesitated, and Eragon could see that she wanted to ask why but restrained herself. "So be it. I will send for magicians at once, that we may settle this matter without delay. Depending on what they find - and it will be nothing untoward, I'm sure - I am honored to form an alliance between you and the Varden, King Halfpaw."_

_ At her words, all of the humans in the hall broke out cheering and began to clap, including Angela. Even the elves appeared pleased._

_ The werecats, however, did not react, except to tilt their ears backward in annoyance at the noise._

(Text © 2011 Christopher Paolini)

**So, that's how the werecats came to change the future of Alagaësia. Next chapter we find someone with a personal conflict inside, however, said person is trying extremely hard to get rid of their conflict. Review, please!**

**Rock on!**

**ROK**


	10. Chapter 10

**Well, here we are on Chapter 10. To all my readers, thank you very much. It warms my heart to see that I have over 1,100 hits, around 300 different visitors, and almost 75 reviews. OK, enough with my emotional sap, let's get to the review replies and the new chapter.**

**Galby'sapimp, it's good to see you review again! I wondered where you've been.**

**Speaking of which, SimplySupreme, where are you? Haven't seen you in a couple of chapters…hope everything's all right.**

**Paolinifansimon, Martland Redbeard is not the only authority figure in Feinster, he's just the person Nasuada has put in charge. Some of the Varden's other generals are stationed in Feinster as well. Hence Roran becoming a general. I just chose Martland because he's the only person of authority I can think of that was not in the chapter "King Cat", which I speculate is in Belatona, as well as I am frankly too lazy to make up a good name for someone in Alagaësia.**

**Massa, thank you for your suggestion. I will work on getting a little more variety on the structure of my sentences.**

**Draco Lucis and Eradon son of awesomeness, I think that I will address that topic sometime, but as of right now I'm not sure where to go with that. When I figure it out I'll bring it into the story.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own any recognizable parts of the Inheritance Cycle.**

**Chapter 10**

Murtagh stared at the object sitting on top of the cushioned pedestal: the emerald dragon egg. Positioned in a room few in the castle had access to and guarded by wards that only allowed loyal servants of the king to touch it, Murtagh had come to the conclusion long ago that it was highly unlikely, if not impossible, that a spy from the Varden would be able to steal it. However, he realized that he was in the perfect position to obtain the egg for them. While he _was _still loyal to Galbatorix, Murtagh hoped that the oaths binding him to the king had weakened enough to allow him this opportunity. Also, he had a great advantage. The king had left for Dras-Leona the day before to punish Marcus Tábor for threatening to give the city over to the Varden and the elves. Murtagh had already killed the guards outside the room, hiding their bodies as to not arouse suspicion. There was only one way to test his theory; he had to try to send the egg to the Varden.

Murtagh sighed and looked away. If he hadn't freed himself enough, the spell simply wouldn't work and the king would be alerted. If he had, the egg would disappear, but one of Galbatorix's magicians would feel the surge of magic coming from the room and surely investigate, or look for Murtagh to report it. He would then have to fabricate a story about the perpetrator. The story would not only have to be believable, but he had to have a memory corroborating it, otherwise Galbatorix would see right through the deception and Murtagh would be punished extremely harshly.

_"Thorn, do you think I should?"_ he asked his dragon, who was keeping an eye out on the castle to make sure Murtagh would not be interrupted.

_"When will you ever have a better chance?"_ Thorn answered.

_"I won't."_

_ "Then I say you do it."_

Glancing down at the piece of parchment he had brought with him, Murtagh pulled out a pen and ink and began to write a short message to Eragon. He stopped many times to think, as he was not sure what to say to his brother. Finally, he grumbled to himself and jotted down a few words, hoping Eragon would comprehend the meaning behind them.

Now came the first crucial point of his mission. If he had freed himself too far from Galbatorix, the wards around the egg would reject him and the king would find out. Carefully, Murtagh walked up to the pedestal. He could practically feel the magical power thrumming in the air around him. Hesitating for a moment, he slowly reached out and grabbed the egg from its cushioned seat.

Nothing happened. The wards didn't trigger.

Murtagh let out a breath he didn't know he had held and examined the egg more closely. It was stunning, somewhere between emerald and jade in color, with ribbed white veins running around its smooth surface. Thorn's egg had been similar in size and shape, albeit red. Murtagh ran his hands over it absentmindedly, thinking about something. He knew he had seen this certain color before. Turning the egg over in his hands, he glanced down. It came to him then. He knew exactly where he had seen this color before.

Murtagh excitedly pulled out his quill and ink and scribbled something on the bottom of the parchment and attached it to the egg. Taking a deep breath, he readied himself for the magic he was about to perform.

This was the second turning point, and the much harder part. His oaths would not allow him to transport the egg directly to Eragon or the Varden. Therefore, Murtagh had to rely on the information that Belatona had just fallen in order for Eragon to indirectly receive the egg. It was based on his belief that he was not personally aiding the enemies of the king that Murtagh was allowed to perform this act.

_"Thorn, do you think this will work?"_ Murtagh asked.

_"We won't know until it happens. And you're spending so much time standing here preparing that I'm surprised no one has found you yet,"_ Thorn admonished.

Murtagh silently cursed. Wasting no more time, he picked up the egg again and focused on a certain spot inside the keep of Belatona. Then, he chanted the incantation and the egg vanished in a burst of bright white light.

Murtagh immediately sprang into action. He dashed across the room and opened the doors, disregarding the dead bodies of the soldiers outside. A servant rounded the corner, and Murtagh wasted no time and knocked the man unconscious, and then entered his mind and erased the memory of the incident. He hid the body around the corner and waited for one of Galbatorix's pet magicians to arrive.

He was not disappointed. Within a few minutes, a lone magician ran up at a breakneck pace. The magician reached Murtagh and bent down, gasping. "Lord Murtagh," he said haltingly, "there was a huge magical disturbance here. What happened?"

"Someone–most likely an agent from the Varden–has stolen the egg," Murtagh growled with convincing anger.

"How–how is that possible?" the magician asked, awestruck.

"It appears as if he took control of one of our magicians' minds and forced the man to teleport the egg to Belatona. In the process, it seems the spy almost killed the magician, as he was unconscious. Probably because was not strong enough to fuel the spell completely," Murtagh completed with a grimace on his face, although internally he was smiling.

"Who was it, Lord Murtagh?"

Murtagh just smiled and bashed the magician on the head with Zar'roc's pommel. The man slid to the ground, out cold. Murtagh invaded his mind and placed in a memory of being controlled and creating the spell to transport the egg. He then transferred almost all of the man's energy into the ruby on Zar'roc, completing the ruse. Without a backward glance, he casually walked off in the direction he came from, although his heart was pounding inside his chest. He opened his mind and called for a healer.

_"Yes, Lord Murtagh?"_

_ "I need you to go to the egg chamber. There is an unconscious magician that needs your aid. He was forced to overuse magic."_

_ "Yes, Lord Murtagh. I will go immediately."_ With that, the healer closed off his mind. Murtagh smiled again, thankful for the fact that the people of the castle would perform his bidding without question. Now, he hoped that Galbatorix would believe him when he realized the egg was gone.

As if on cue, Murtagh felt the king's vast mind enter his. _"Murtagh, what happened?"_ the king asked harshly.

_"A spy for the Varden or the elves forced his way into a magician's mind and compelled the man to teleport the egg, my king,"_ Murtagh answered._ "We do not know where the egg was transported to, as the spy kept that information inside his head. The agent must have had some knowledge of magic, but not the ability to perform it."_

Murtagh hoped Galbatorix would believe it. Suddenly, a searing pain enveloped his head as the king began to search through his memories. Quickly, and with the aid of Thorn, he hid his memories of sending the egg to the Varden and instead showed Galbatorix the memory he had planted inside the comatose magician.

_"And you say you found this inside the magician's mind?"_

_ "Yes, my king. I am searching for the spy right now, as he could not have gotten far without magic. However, he has probably hidden himself well."_

_ "Find him at all costs!"_ the king raged. _"If you do not find the man, I will punish you myself when I return."_

Murtagh grimaced as Galbatorix left his mind. _"Thorn, what can I do now?"_ he asked, panicky.

Thorn's voice betrayed the deep sadness inside him. _"You must plant a memory inside an innocent and kill them to save yourself."_

Murtagh bristled. _"Do I have to?"_ he asked. The thought of doing something to a harmless person disgusted him. The next second, he was marveling at his change in character. _A year ago I would have done it without a second thought. I have changed much recently. For the better, I hope._

_"Yes, Murtagh, for the better,"_ Thorn said gently, and he sent a wave of compassion over to his partner-of-heart-and-mind. Murtagh looked up gratefully and realized he had an unwilling victim. He backtracked to the servant he had left unconscious, hidden in the shadows near the egg chamber. He once again entered the man's mind and created a false history for him, where he began to serve the Varden a couple of months ago. It continued through those two months, providing evidence that he had been helping the rebels has often as he could, and it ended with him killing the guards and forcing the magician to transport the egg. Murtagh sighed and said, "Deyja." A second later, he fell to the floor and groaned in agony, as he forgot to leave the servant's mind and he felt the man's life extinguish.

_"Why?"_ Murtagh cried out to the he sat there, a picture of Galbatorix appeared in his mind, torturing innocent servants to death because it pleased him. Murtagh slowly picked himself up off the floor. _I am doing this so that the next generation of children will not have to live under the shadow of an oppressive king. While I may not survive, I owe it to Eragon, Nasuada, and the people of Alagaësia to help them as much as I possibly can,_ Murtagh thought with determination.

_"That's the Murtagh that I hatched for,"_ Thorn said approvingly.

_"Thank you again, Thorn, for being there when I needed support,"_ Murtagh responded.

_"You're welcome, Murtagh."_

Murtagh walked back towards his chambers, knowing that what he had just achieved had changed the fates of many people, as well as the fate of all of Alagaësia.

**Well, did you like it? It was a little short, and I'm sorry about it. I just lost my train of thought halfway through and cut the chapter short. I tried to show the changes Murtagh's character has undertaken. Also, this is the best contribution Murtagh can make for the Varden at this point, as he is still under oath to Galbatorix. Of course, he has figured out who the next Rider is going to be. (Obviously, most of us dedicated readers of the Inheritance Cycle have as well.) So, next chapter we have Eragon finding the dragon egg somewhere near his current location. The egg will hatch in the next couple of chapters, and the winter will hit Belatona in full force, throwing a wrench in the Varden's plans.**

**Rock on!**

**ROK**


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11! This story is moving along nicely. I hope to have finished Chapter 15 by the time school starts on August 15. However, from that point on I think I'm only going to be able to update two or three times a week, as I chose to kill myself with my schedule. (4 junior-level honors classes, of which 3 are AP level**–**ugh! Not to mention I'm also playing golf for my high school team Tuesday through Friday.) By the time I am finished with my story and the real **_**Inheritance **_**comes out in November, this should be around 35 chapters and 100,000 words long, although I may have to shorten it if I'm strained on time.**

**SimplySupreme, it's OK, you don't need to apologize. It's nice to hear from you again, although I feel for you. I just left 110 degree heat in Peoria and went up north to Flagstaff. High of 85 degrees!**

**Redstar47, I realize that Murtagh and Thorn were sent to guard Gil'ead, but with the injury Thorn received from Glaedr they would not have been able to defend themselves from the elves. Therefore, Galbatorix called them back so that he would not lose his Rider to the elves.**

**Dagibsta, I'll take into account your suggestion. I hope that the rest of my readers can help as well.**

**If anybody out there has a name for the green dragon other than Eridor, which is what I was originally going to use, then let me know. Yes, it's cliché, but it is CP we are talking about. I mean, he did kind of rip off Star Wars and Lord of the Rings (just saying!), so clichés are expected. I expect him to use Eridor for the green dragon's name. However, I may not go that route. We'll see. Anyway, give me some names and I'll decide whether or not to use them.**

**Restrained Freedom, I'm sorry to say that I didn't think about that, as I was trying to keep Murtagh on the inside until the very end. However, I'm going to cover up my lack of thoroughness in my thoughts by saying that the strongest part of Murtagh's oaths to Galbatorix was that Murtagh could not leave Urû'baen without the king's explicit permission. Therefore, as he was still partially bound to Galbatorix, said oaths did not permit him to leave the capital.**

**Whew, that's a lot of reviews to reply to! Still, it means that a lot of you guys like this story! Thank you so much!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own any recognizable parts of the Inheritance Cycle.**

**Chapter 11**

Eragon shifted on his cot, trying to sleep, but again and again his thoughts wandered back to the pact between the werecats and the Varden. He had been present the day before when Trianna and Carn had completely checked Grimrr Halfpaw's mind and declared him safe. The remaining werecats that had been with him had been found harmless as well, and the entire werecat force had been welcomed into the Varden with open arms. Eragon was surprised at how small in number the werecats were. There were only around two hundred of them ready to fight, with another one hundred and fifty that were young, old, sick, or nursing. Still, their ferocity astonished Eragon, as a single werecat could take out five regular soldiers with ease using only a dagger, teeth, and claws. Only the elves surpassed them in fighting ability.

Belatona had been defended with relative ease after the disposal of the soldiers who felt no pain. King Orrin and his cavalry had easily disposed of the contingent of Galbatorix's regular troops that had tried to regain access to the city, and the citizens of Belatona had, with a few exceptions, pledged their services wholeheartedly to the Varden. The only plan the Varden had for the winter was to hunker down and stay protected inside the cities, half of the men in Belatona and the other half in Feinster. When spring arrived, the troops stationed in Feinster would rejoin the main force in Belatona, and together they would march on Dras-Leona with the elves and the dwarves. After Dras-Leona, they would march on Urû'baen and Eragon would kill the king or die trying.

Eragon stirred again, and then gave up on sleep and left his tent. The sun was just appearing in the east, sending its rays across the land. He walked past a sleeping Saphira and exited the camp, not really paying attention to where he was heading. Soon, he realized that he had arrived at the place the Jiet River met Leona Lake. A small cliff overhung the source of the river, and Eragon made his way over to it and sat down. He had not had a chance to truly be at peace since Saphira hatched, but he was grateful for times like these when he could relax for a short time.

A slight wind rustled the grass around him as Saphira alighted on the rock next to him. She also looked out over the scenery. After a while, she spoke.

_"This is a beautiful place."_

_ "Aye."_ Eragon replied. _"I could stay here a while."_

_ "Unfortunately, no such luxury exists for us. We have always been on the move since I hatched,"_ Saphira remarked.

_ "Soon, we'll put an end to this war, and we'll have all the time in the world to settle down and do whatever we want," _Eragon said firmly. Saphira did not respond, and the two lapsed into a comfortable silence, the only noise being the flowing water of the Jiet River.

Suddenly, Saphira lifted her head and growled slightly, before resting her head in her paws again. _"We have a visitor,"_ she said, sounding a little amused.

Eragon turned his head and saw a young girl walking up to him. He frowned, wondering what a little girl was doing outside the camp, before noticing the sharp fangs and small claws she possessed. Recognizing the female werecat that he had seen a few times before, he nodded to her and made room for her on the rock. However, she transformed back into her cat shape and curled up a few feet from Eragon.

_"Hello, Eragon and Saphira,"_ the werecat said, beginning to lick one of her paws.

_"Hello," _Eragon replied, wondering what her name was.

_"I have many names, some of which are unknown to any human, but you can call me Askid."_ Eragon realized with a jolt that he was still in connection with the werecat, and she had read his thoughts.

_"Why is it that werecats seem to have so many names? Solembum, Maud, and King Halfpaw have mentioned that you all have many names, but mostly answer to just one. What do the other names entail?" _he asked.

Askid immediately froze and looked at Eragon with a hard look in her eyes. _"You, of all people, should be one to respect privacy. This is a closely guarded secret among the werecats, and extremely lucky you shall be if one ever deems you fit to know any of our secrets. Do not ask that question again to any of us."_

Eragon was startled at the intensity of her response, and he did not reply to her, although he was even more curious than before. However, after a few minutes she mentally sighed and said _"Know this if you must. Our names are similar in nature to that of the elves._" She did not speak again on the subject.

Eragon sat in silence again, until he finally gathered up the courage to ask the question which had bothered him since he had met Grimrr Halfpaw. _"What is King Halfpaw's disagreement with Angela about?" _he asked hesitantly, not wanting to face Askid's wrath if it was an unmentionable subject.

To his surprise, she seemed to be laughing uncontrollably at the mention of Angela. _"She beat him in a match of riddles, something which had never happened before. She told a riddle about a bird, and the answer insulted King Halfpaw. Some of the werecats were furious that she would have the audacity to perform such an act, but the rest, including myself, saw her as a person clever and wise to be able to beat our king."_

Saphira rustled and said, _"I always liked a good game of riddles."_

Askid turned to her. _"All dragons and werecats inherently possess the wit and knowledge required to create and decipher formidable riddles, while humans, elves, and dwarves have to learn it. However, I find it tedious to do so with other werecats all the time, and humans, other than Angela, are boring. Would you like to challenge me, Saphira?"_

_ "Indeed I would,"_ Saphira responded.

Eragon stood up and began to walk away, saying, _"With what you just told me, I probably would lose my mind listening to you two. I'm going to go for a walk down the river."_

_ "Be safe," _Saphira warned.

_"I will,"_ Eragon said. Then, Askid turned to him and looked at him for a few seconds. Unnerved, Eragon asked, _"What?"_

_"The person whom you seek will come to you, and the knowledge you shall need will be imparted upon you in due time. Do not try to force the matters, as that could backfire and hurt you. Be patient and wait for what you desire, and everything will work out in the end,"_ she said, before turning back to Saphira.

Puzzled, Eragon continued on his way. No matter how hard he tried, he could not decipher what Askid had told him. He did realize that it was similar, in a way, to Solembum's prophecy. However, since Askid was a bit younger than he was, her pieces of foresight were probably more vague than Solembum's. He came to a bend in the river that meandered its way through a small copse of trees.

Eragon sat down and began to meditate. He pushed his mind out in all directions and encompassed all of the life forms in the immediate vicinity. His mind touched the slow, wandering thoughts of the trees, as well as the frisky, jumping thoughts of the animals. Then, he came upon a presence that was far too big to be an animal. He gently sent a probe towards it. He recognized the consciousness and pulled back, somewhat ashamed. Sitting completely still, he waited for his visitor to arrive.

"Good morning, Arya," he said, not bothering to open his eyes. He felt the ground shift as she sat down beside him.

"Good morning, Eragon," she replied in a voice devoid of any emotion. Eragon sighed, wondering what was on her mind.

"What can I do for you this fine morning?" he asked, duplicating the voice she had used.

"I came out here for some peace and quiet, to escape the cacophony of the city. I assume you have done the same thing?"

"Actually, I could not sleep, so at dawn I wandered around outside the city and ended up slightly north of here, where the Jiet River flows out of Leona Lake. Saphira and Askid joined me, but as they are currently in a battle of riddles, I left to preserve the sanity of my mind."

Arya laughed at his last comment, then asked "Askid?"

"A female werecat that I have met before. She gave me some advice, but I could not understand it." He paused. "Did I ever tell you that when Solembum told me the prophecy about the Menoa Tree and the Vault of Souls, Angela predicted my future for me?"

Arya thought for a couple of seconds, then answered, "I do not remember. If you have, I have forgotten."

"When I visited Teirm with Brom," Eragon began, "I met Angela the first time. Her herb shop was next door to Jeod's house. When I entered her shop, Solembum spoke to me." He paused, then continued sheepishly. "I thought he was a regular cat, and Saphira was talking to me. It was only when a wooden rod shocked me that I realized he was a werecat." Arya laughed.

Eragon smiled. "Angela came out of the back of the shop and asked me if I wanted my fortune told, as she offered it to anybody Solembum spoke to. One of whom was my mother. Angela cast the knucklebones of a dragon and was able to tell me a few things. I would live a long life, and I would have to make many choices, although only one would bring me happiness. Someone near me would die, and a betrayal would come within my family. All of these things have happened. I am a Rider, therefore I will live long. Brom died next to me, and Murtagh betrayed me by joining Galbatorix." He mumbled a few more words under his breath.

"What was that?" Arya asked.

"She told me two more things. I would have an epic romance, strong enough to outlast empires, with someone from noble birth, who was powerful, wise, and beautiful beyond compare. She did not know whether it would end happily, though. And I would have to leave Alagaësia, never to return," Eragon finished.

Arya mulled over this for a long time. Eragon waited patiently, thinking, _What if she figures out _she_ could be the person mentioned in the epic romance?_ He was torn from his thoughts when Arya spoke.

"I would not worry too much about what Angela has foreseen. What is supposed to happen, will happen. You will have no say in the matter, except for the choices you make to bring you happiness."

He smiled sadly. "That's exactly what Oromis told me when I mentioned it to him in Ellesméra."

"However, I do have one question. Who do you think the woman in your future is?"

Eragon was about to say "you" when an explosion suddenly rocked the ground close to them as a bright red light blinded them. Eragon's skin prickled, and Arya's look of shock showed that she knew what had happened. Somebody had teleported something to them.

Eragon jumped up and ran towards the cluster of burning trees, Arya following right behind him. He pushed his way through the trees and reached the clearing, but stopped so abruptly that Arya ran into him.

In the middle of the charred, blackened clearing was the one thing that Eragon never expected to see: the green dragon egg. Looking down on it, he experienced a feeling of déjà vu. It was eerily similar to the time he found Saphira's egg in the Spine. Arya gasped behind him.

"Is that…?" she asked.

"Yes. It's the last dragon egg." Eragon said.

He carefully walked towards the egg. When he reached it, he cast a spell to see if there were any wards on it. There were none. However, he did notice a piece of parchment attached to the egg by a string. He picked it up. It was a note written in the ancient language that said

_Eragon,_

_ I found a way to get this to you. The oaths on me have weakened. I cannot leave yet, but I will aid you as much as I can, brother._

_Murtagh_

_P.S.: You've seen this color before. Match it, and you will find the Rider._

Eragon couldn't believe it. He wordlessly showed the note to Arya, and her eyes widened in disbelief as well. At that moment, Eragon saw it. He looked at her eyes, and then back to the egg nestled in his arms. They were the exact same color. He thought back to the time he had seen Arya perform magic. It had a green hue to it, the same green as her eyes.

_Arya's going to be the next Rider!_ he said. _Do I tell her, or do I simply ask her to carry the egg until we "find" its Rider? _He cast out his mind. _"Saphira! Murtagh sent us the last dragon egg!"_

A response was not long in coming. _"What? How do you know he isn't trying to deceive us?"_ she roared in his head.

_"Murtagh wrote a message to us in the ancient language. I know that doesn't necessarily mean he cannot lie, but he is trying to prove we can trust him. Besides, he knows who the next Rider will be!"_ Eragon exclaimed

_ "Who is it?"_ Saphira asked incredulously.

Eragon decided to tease her. _"You do know what color the last egg was, right?"_

_ "Yes, green."_

_ "And who do we know that is associated to the color green?"_

_"I don't know…wait, is it Arya?"_

_ "Yes!" _Eragon shouted in his mind. _"Do we tell her, or should we let her carry it and it hatches for her then?"_

_ "I believe we should tell her, as she would not like it if you held information like that from her."_

Eragon turned to Arya. She was looking at the egg with nothing short of wonder in her eyes. In an awestruck voice she said, "Eragon, we have the last egg. We can try to find the Rider amongst the Varden or the elves. We have the ability to even out the odds in the battle against Galbatorix!"

Eragon stepped up to her and looked her in the eye. "Arya, there was a message on the egg. It was from Murtagh, and he told me that the Rider matched the color of the egg. Saphira and I discussed this for a while, and we have come to a conclusion. We believe the next Rider will be you." At Arya's astounded exclamation Eragon continued. "Let me continue. Your eyes, as well as your magic, match the color of the egg almost exactly. That seems to match what happened with Murtagh and myself with our parents. Brom's magic were blue, as well as his dragon, and that was passed on to me. Morzan's magic was red, like his dragon, and Murtagh inherited that. Therefore, we can assume that someone with green magic would become the next Rider."

"What if the next Rider is a human with no magical experience at all, like you were?" Arya asked coldly.

"I wouldn't know, but there _does_ need to be an elven Rider, as Murtagh and I are both humans." Eragon chuckled a little.

Arya thought for a long time. Finally, she said, "I do not believe the egg will hatch for me, as I am over one hundred years old, but I will continue my duty as the egg courier. If the egg does hatch for me, I will be honored." She gingerly took the egg from Eragon as Saphira landed next to them.

_"Can I see the egg?"_ she asked. Arya held it up for Saphira to see. Her blue eyes blinked and she didn't say anything to the two as they climbed up on top of Saphira as they headed back to the Varden.

"Do you think we should tell Nasuada?" Eragon asked Arya.

"Not yet. If the egg does hatch for me soon, then we can tell her. If not, then we'll tell her and try to find the new Rider. How long did it take Saphira to hatch for you?"

"Two weeks," Eragon answered, "but I don't think that was normal. I was not in possession of Saphira the entire time." He remembered trying to sell her egg to the traders. He shivered, wondering why he would have ever done that. "I think, however, that we can monitor the dragon's thoughts as it is subjected to people, and see if it can find its Rider." As he spoke, he expanded his mind to the egg. The feelings of the dragon inside overwhelmed him. He extracted his mind and said, "Arya, he knows he is in the presence of his Rider. There is no doubt it will be you."

**Well, did you guys like it? I tried to add a little more ExA in there, because the egg hatching soon that will not allow them to be together for a while. You know, because relationships between master and student are not allowed. I really don't know how long it took for dragon eggs to hatch when the Riders were around, but I knew it wasn't the two weeks it took for Saphira to hatch, nor the almost instantaneous hatching that most stories have. Also, I loved the new werecat, even though she's stereotypically mysterious. Do you like her name? I made it up on the spot. And then the egg. Typical Murtagh, he's short and right to the point, even in his messages. Obviously, he knew where he could send the egg so that it would not be "helping" the Varden. Next chapter we get a long-awaited point of view, one that CP **_**needs **_**to put in **_**Inheritance**_**, and probably will.****This POV I may or may not have trouble with, because I am of the opposite gender. Oh, well. I'll try my best.**

**Rock on!**

**ROK**


	12. Chapter 12

**OK, here's chapter 12. Thanks for all of the great reviews; I'm so happy that everybody loves my story. Also, thanks for all the suggestions for the name of the dragon. I will choose one when the time comes, but it's not in this chapter. This one's just a filler. By the way, I don't have a full outline anymore. I know what I want to write about, but I only had an outline for the first 10 chapters. So, I'm basically winging each chapter from here on out. That's why I had a slight writer's block when I tried to write this chapter, and it affected the quality of it, as well as the amount of time it took to write.**

**Dagibsta, Murtagh's true name hasn't changed, but Galbatorix's oaths were lax and Murtagh, after searching for a long time, found enough loopholes so that not all of his actions are completely controlled by Galbatorix. Also, his nature is changing, which is weakening the bond that Galbatorix has on his true name.**

**Massa, I did feel it was rushed, but I didn't know how to slow down and try to split up the chapter, so I'll just elaborate on the events in this chapter.**

**Restrained Freedom, no, it's not Galby. Someone else we all know and love. And I'm sorry about the lack of excitement, but because I used the sneak peek "King Cat", Eragon leaves the battle to meet with Grimrr Halfpaw. So I just mentioned the end of the battle because Eragon had left it early. **

**SimplySupreme, I know, the eyes were a bit cheesy, but I only used it for Eragon as a reminder of the color of Arya's magic. Heck, Eragon has brown eyes and Murtagh blue, so I know that the eye color doesn't have to match. Eragon just saw the color and linked it to Arya's magic. Also, Arya is complex, but she is trying to hide that from Eragon because she doesn't know exactly what she feels about him yet. Plus, at the end she was just told that she, the hundred-year-old princess of the elves, would become a Rider. Kind of a shocker for anybody, so she didn't take it too well, as is expected.**

**Draco Lucis, while I was skimming the books I actually found two passages, one in Eragon (page 490) and one in Eldest (page 219), that show that Arya's magic is green. So it would make sense that she would be the Rider for the green dragon. Eragon and Murtagh didn't possess the use of magic before they became Riders, but if they did, I'm pretty sure it would have been blue and red, just like Brom and Morzan's magic.**

**Lots of reviews to reply to again. I'm lovin' it! (© McDonald's Corp.) Keep it up, guys!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own any recognizable parts of the Inheritance Cycle.**

**Chapter 12**

Arya couldn't believe what Eragon had just told her. "What did you say?" she asked, wanting to make sure.

"Arya, the dragon inside the egg knows he is in the presence of his Rider. Since I'm already a Rider, it cannot be me, so it must be you," Eragon repeated. Arya shook her head in disbelief. Shifting in the saddle, Eragon turned around to face her. "I know this will take some time to set in, but you have some time before the egg hatches to reconcile yourself with the idea that you will be a Dragon Rider."

Arya smiled weakly up at him. "I guess I don't really have a choice in this matter, do I?" she asked.

Eragon laughed. "I'm sorry, but no. Your life has changed forever, but there is really nothing you can do about it now."

Arya nodded. Silence reined for a time until Arya asked, "Since you say I will be a Rider, would I still be in line to take the elven throne when my mother abdicates?"

Eragon shook his head. "No, Riders are supposed to be out of any government's control. When the Riders are reinstated, we will watch over Alagaësia, free from any person's control."

"But wasn't that what originally caused the Riders to fall?" countered Arya.

Eragon thought for a moment. "I guess you're right. That is what caused the Riders to become corrupt and allow them to fall to Galbatorix. We will have to think about it, but a solution will need to be put in place after the war."

Again, their thoughts wandered for a while, just taking in the scenery around them, until Saphira landed with a mighty flourish in the clearing outside Belatona.

_"Little ones, you must decide whether or not to tell Nasuada about the emerald egg," _Saphira reminded them.

"Arya, what do you think. Should we tell Nasuada about the last egg, now that we know you are going to be a Rider?" Eragon asked her.

Sighing, Arya said, "Now that we know I will be the Rider, there is no reason not to. However, you must let me tell my mother, as I will wait until after it hatches. She will want to talk to me about it in great detail."

"Aye," Eragon said. Arya jumped down off of Saphira, still tightly holding on to the egg. Before anybody could see it, she placed it in one of Saphira's saddlebags. Eragon landed next to her and they quickly made their way through the city towards the keep, Blödhgarm and the rest of the elves following behind them.

Arya noticed a fire beyond the western walls of the city where the Empire's soldiers were being burned. She shuddered slightly and turned away from the sight, entering the keep. She and Eragon climbed the stairs to the throne room and were admitted by the Nighthawks, while Saphira glided into the building through the huge gap in the wall that occurred during the first battle for Belatona.

Nasuada sat on Lord Bradburn's throne, Jörmundur standing on her right as usual and King Orrin on her left. Arya could plainly see the dark circles under her eyes as she looked up and greeted Eragon, Saphira, and Arya in turn.

"What can I do for you?" Nasuada asked, clearly realizing that their visit was unexpected.

Eragon looked at them and asked "Can we have your word that this will not be spoken of outside this room." Nasuada, Orrin, and Jörmundur each gave their word.

As usual, Arya remained silent while Eragon narrated the events of the morning, starting with his wandering to the lake and ending with the explosion that signified the appearance of the egg. Nasuada was amazed when she heard that Murtagh, of all people, was helping the Varden. "And where is the egg now?" she asked.

Arya then chose to speak. "I placed it in Saphira's saddlebags, so that it would not bring any unwanted attention to us."

"Could you retrieve it for us?" Orrin asked. Nodding, Arya walked over to Saphira and put her hand inside the bag. Gently, she pulled out the egg. All of the leaders gasped at the sight. Nasuada was the first to recover her wits and said, "We should convene the children of the Varden immediately and try to find the next Rider."

Eragon smiled gently at this. "Actually, my Lady, I believe that we have already found the Rider."

"Who?" all three asked at once.

Eragon laughed. "When Arya and I found the egg, I happened to expand my mind and read the thoughts of the dragon inside. He already knew he was in the presence of his Rider. As I was already one, the only person it could be was Arya."

Arya saw the stunned reactions from the occupants of the room. Again, Nasuada was the first to recover and asked, "It's a he?"

"Yes," Eragon replied. "We think he should hatch within the next couple of days."

"So, Arya, you are going to be the next Rider in the battle against Galbatorix." Orrin said, not so much of a question as a statement. Arya nodded again. "It will be an even matchup. Eragon and you against Galbatorix and Murtagh."

Eragon interjected. "Murtagh is not fully under Galbatorix's control, your Majesty. I believe there is a way I can free him from his oaths the next time we meet."

Again, astonishment was the only response from the members of the room, including Arya. And once again, Nasuada was able to speak first. "What way is that, Eragon?"

Arya found her voice again. "Yes, Eragon, I would like to know about this as well."

"And me," Orrin chimed in.

"I'd like to know as well," added Jörmundur.

Eragon looked guiltily at everyone in the room. "When Murtagh first challenged me at the Battle of the Burning Plains, he told me in the ancient language that I was his brother and the son of Morzan. However, when I went to Ellesméra before the Battle for Feinster, I was told that Brom was my father and Murtagh was my half-brother, sharing the same mother, Selena. However, since Murtagh still thinks that we are full brothers, I hope that the realization that I am Brom's son will help him to throw off the mantle of being Morzan's son as well and, in doing so, change his true name."

Arya thought about it for a while. "I understand your plan, but I'm not sure if it's going to work. What if, when you tell Murtagh that you are Brom's son, he takes it as a sign that you are going to kill him, because your father killed his father, and attack you with all of his strength?"

Eragon looked thoughtful. "Actually, I didn't think about it that way, but I hope he won't react like that. The basis of my plan is the fact that when I was told Morzan was my father, I refused to think about it like that and instead thought of Garrow as my father figure, obliterating Morzan from my mind. If we can get Murtagh to do the same, to choose another person to be his father figure, like Tornac, his fencing master, then his anger at the world of being judged like his father would dissipate and his true name would change."

"It's a good plan, Eragon, but it does rely on Murtagh's reaction to the news that you are the son of Brom, not Morzan," Nasuada spoke up.

Orrin said, "As long as we can ensure your safety, Shadeslayer, then I see no problems with your method."

"Neither do I," Jörmundur said.

"I agree," Nasuada said finally, "but for everyone's sake I hope it works. Eragon, you and Arya are free to leave."

Arya cradled the egg in her arms As they exited Nasuada's command room, she looked at Eragon. "And why did you never tell anyone about this before, Eragon?

Eragon looked sheepishly at her. "I didn't really think about it until I saw Murtagh call me 'brother' in his note. As we were walking here, I realized that Murtagh did not know the truth about my parentage because the last time we met, I was still under the impression that Morzan was my father. That's how the plan came to me that if Murtagh were to know that I was the son of Brom, then his nature might change and, from that, his true name."

Arya studied him. "Be that as it may, it is still a risky plan. You will need to have all of the protection your guards can give you."

Eragon chuckled. "Don't worry, Arya, they almost never leave me alone," he said, gesturing to Blödhgarm and the other elves, who stood impassively in formation a discreet distance away. He turned towards his tent and said, "Goodbye, Arya Svit-kona. Remember, the dragon could hatch at any time. Do not hesitate to contact me when it occurs." And with that, he walked away, the twelve elves following.

Arya watched him leave, then sighed and slowly walked towards her tent. _I am going to be a Dragon Rider_, she thought. The idea still hadn't fully sunk in. She knew that her life would change completely very soon. Arya entered her tent and carefully placed the egg on top of the only chair in her tent and wrapped some cloth around it. Laying down on her bed, she continued to think.

_What am I going to say to my mother?_ she asked herself. _She will be happy that an elf became the last Rider,_ she thought dryly, _ as Eragon and Murtagh were both humans. She would have some control over the last Rider that she didn't have over those two. But how will she react to the fact that the elf in question is her own daughter and the princess of the elves?_ For that question, Arya had no answer. It was still troubling her as she fell into her waking dreams.

**Did you guys like it? The long awaited (and much needed) Arya POV. Now that Arya is going to be a Rider, there will be more chapters in her POV. I want to show her interaction with her dragon, whatever I choose to name him, as well as her take on the war between the Empire. I hope that I portrayed Arya well, as it is extremely difficult for me to do. It is very complicated to portray her and still stay in character. Plus, I'm a boy, which makes it even harder for me to accurately capture her character.**

**Rock on!**

**ROK**


	13. Chapter 13

**Well, guys, here's Chapter 13. Unlucky number 13! Nah, not really. I came up with this chapter idea pretty quickly, as this was one of the chapters in which I had a pretty good idea of what was going to happen, but I got stuck halfway through before coming up with the necessary idea to finish it. Again, another chapter from Arya's POV. **

**Restrained Freedom and Annonn, the Riders had become lazy and overconfident with all of their unchecked power. And of course, you've heard the saying, "Absolute power corrupts absolutely", right? Obviously, the Riders weren't fully corrupted (Oromis and Vrael being prime examples), but enough of them were incompetent and that is what caused Galbatorix to believe he could do whatever he wanted to take down the other Riders. I agree, Galbatorix was the main cause in the Fall, but an underlying one was the confidence and, therefore, laziness the Riders had because of their power. Also, thanks so much for telling me that Eragon shouldn't tell Murtagh that Brom was his father until after the battle! You've both helped me by creating a way for Murtagh to get out of his oaths to Galbatorix! You'll figure it out when I get there, but thank you guys so much.**

**SimplySupreme, I would greatly appreciate any feedback you can give me. And I made sure that Islanzadí didn't know yet on purpose, so that she couldn't call Arya back to the elves. And we can't have that happening now, can we? Once the egg hatches, Arya will then tell her mother that the dragon hatched for her and Eragon will be her ebrithil, so she can't leave.**

**Dagibsta, there just might be one of those. I guess you'll just have to read the chapter to find it.**

**The M.H.T. of R, I remember reading somewhere that Murtagh had black hair and blue eyes, and I learned he inherited both from Morzan somewhere in Brisingr (the scene where Eragon talks to Jeod about Morzan). By contrast, Eragon, his half-brother, has brown hair and brown eyes, which he probably got from Selena and/or Brom.**

**The Meepsta, it's good to see you again. You don't need to apologize, I went on vacation during the first half of the summer, when I wanted to start my story, but I couldn't because I didn't have my computer with me. **

**I've got just one more thing to say. This story has 99 reviews, which is 1–that's right, 1–review away from 100. That's an average of more than 8 reviews a chapter. I can't believe this. From the other stories I see here, that's above average. You guys must really like this story. Thanks so much again everybody!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own any recognizable parts of the Inheritance Cycle.**

**Chapter 13**

_Arya saw herself riding through the forest on her horse, Faölin and Glenwing in front of and behind her, respectively. By some unspoken command, they switched spots. Suddenly, the horses sniffed and realized something was wrong. Quick as a flash, the three elves turned their horses around and galloped away. Arya saw Durza jump up and yell "Garjzla" as the Urgals' arrows sped towards them. Faölin and Glenwing fell, but she saw herself continue on foot into the forest, Durza and the Urgals following._

_ Arya moved over to her fallen guards. She looked into the unwavering, glassy eyes of Faölin and wept, knowing that she would never see him alive again. After a long time, she moved over to the other fallen elf, a few feet away. However, when she looked at his face, she did not see Glenwing, but Eragon…_

A squeak quickly brought her out of her waking dreams.

Arya jumped up and grabbed her knife from beside her and looked wildly all over the room. Nobody was there. Attributing it to her nerves, she sheathed the knife and was about to fall back into her waking dreams when a few more squeaks occurred. She froze, trying to find the source of the noise. After a few seconds, her eyes rested on the emerald egg that was wrapped up, sitting on her chair, just as it gave another, louder squeak.

Quickly, Arya strode to the chair the egg was sitting on. It started to roll around slightly and Arya realized what was happening. The egg was hatching. _It's a little earlier than Eragon said it would be_, she thought offhandedly. Then, she said "_Eragon!"_ Thinking quickly, she expanded her mind and found Eragon in his tent. She battered at his barriers until he lowered them so they could talk.

_"W-what?"_ Eragon said sleepily.

_"Eragon, the egg is hatching,"_ Arya said tersely.

Instantly all sleepiness left his head. _"I'll be right there,"_ he said, and Arya withdrew from his mind. She picked up the shaking egg and held it, not knowing what else to do. The egg stopped momentarily, still squeaking, then shook even harder, and a small crack appeared in one side. The squeaks grew louder.

After a few minutes had passed, the tent flap opened as Eragon burst in. Surprised, Arya grabbed her knife and was about to attack Eragon until she realized who it was. She dropped the knife and motioned him over to the bed. The tent rocked as Saphira stuck her head in through the flap to watch over the proceedings.

Eragon sat down on the bed and watched Arya tightly hold onto the egg. He was in a state akin to shock. Arya was in a similar state. Being told she was going to be a Rider, and actually watching the egg hatch in her arms, were two completely different situations. Now, there was no going back.

Eragon found his voice again. "You might want to put that on the ground. Dragon eggs have a tendency to be somewhat…explosive, when they hatch. Besides, I think he might be safer, just in case you were to drop him."

Arya gently set the egg down on the floor, then glared at Eragon for insinuating that she would drop him. However, any more words were quickly halted as the egg spun around, and more cracks formed in the shell. Suddenly, a small claw burst its way through the web of cracks and Arya gasped.

The small claw gripped the pieces of its egg and shattered the area around it. Slowly, the dragon inside the egg became more visible. Arya looked at Eragon, but his face was blank, so she assumed he was talking with Saphira. The dragon inside let out another squeak, one that seemed painfully loud to Arya with her elven hearing.

Finally, with small pieces of the egg shell splattering across the ground, the small green dragon burst out of its cage of one hundred years. Arya gasped again, while Eragon smiled, clearly remembering when Saphira hatched.

The dragon was about the length of her forearm, and his emerald scales glistened even in the faint moonlight that was filtering in through the gap in the tent formed by Saphira. His velvety wings were tucked in against his side, and his claws were small but sharp. Curious, the dragon looked around, then waddled towards Arya sitting on the bed. Hesitating, Arya looked at Eragon, and when he nodded, she stood up and stretched out her right hand towards the dragon.

As soon as she touched the dragon's snout, she was incapacitated by an icy burn that started at her hand and traveled throughout her whole body. Unable to move, Arya would have fallen if Eragon hadn't caught her in his arms. Slowly, the pain faded away, and Arya found herself looking into Eragon's worried yet understanding eyes. Quickly, she pulled away from him and steadied herself. Her hand itched, and she looked at it. A shimmering white oval appeared on her palm.

"The gedwëy ignasia. Congratulations, Arya," Eragon said quietly. "You are now a Dragon Rider."

"Thank you, Eragon, for catching me," Arya replied just as quietly, realizing at the same time why Eragon told her to put the egg on the ground instead of holding it. She picked up the tiny dragon and it curled up in her arms. A wide grin spread across Eragon's face. "There is another Dragon Rider!" he exclaimed. Saphira roared into the night, doubtless waking up much of the Varden. Arya laughed at their enthusiasm.

"We must tell Nasuada, and Queen Islanzadí, that the egg has hatched," Eragon said.

"Yes, we must." Internally, Arya frowned. She knew her mother would be upset that they hadn't shared the fact that they had obtained the egg earlier in the day. _She will just have to deal with it_, Arya thought to herself. _I have no doubt that she would have tried to use her influence on me to bring me back to the elves and appoint another as Ambassador to the Varden._

The hatchling squeaked, bringing her out of her musings. At the same time, Arya felt an overwhelming feeling of hunger. _But why would I be hungry in the middle of the night?_ she wondered. Then, the dragon in her arms squeaked again, and another wave of hunger crashed into Arya. _The dragon must be hungry_, she thought.

As if reading her thoughts, Eragon pulled out a piece of meat from somewhere and handed it to Arya. Disgusted, Arya was about to throw it away when Eragon said, "You need to be able to feed your dragon until he is old enough to hunt for himself."

Arya turned to the hatchling and held the meat in her hand. The dragon snapped out his triangular head and gobbled up the piece. He looked back up at her, as if he was almost begging for more. Eragon handed her more pieces, and she put them in her hand and let him eat his fill. Finally, when the dragon was satiated and comfortably sleeping in Arya's arms, she intoned a spell that bent light rays away from him, rendering him invisible. She stood up and walked out of the tent, Eragon following.

They quickly made their way to the keep, avoiding the people of the Varden who had woken up at Saphira's roar. When they reached the central command room, the six Nighthawks guarding her room crossed their spears, seeming ill at ease. The Urgal at the head pounded his ax into the marble floor and announced, "Eragon Shadeslayer and Arya Shadeslayer to see you, Lady Nightstalker."

A reply was quick in coming. "By Gokukara, let them in!" The Nighthawks stepped aside and allowed the two to enter. Inside, Nasuada was pacing the room uneasily. When she saw them, she practically ran at them. "What happened? Why did Saphira roar? Is the Empire attacking again?"

Eragon laughed quietly. "Nothing is wrong, my Lady. In fact, we have just acquired a huge asset in the war against Galbatorix."

Nasuada frowned at him, then paled slightly when the answer dawned on her. "The egg has hatched already?" she said in awe.

"Yes," Arya said, and dropped the spell on the dragon, allowing Nasuada to see him, while at the same time holding up her right hand to show her gedwëy ignasia.

Nasuada dropped into her chair in shock. After an indeterminable period of silence she said, "It is one thing to know that we have the egg, but it is an entirely different thing to see the dragon and Rider in front of me. Congratulations, Arya."

"Thank you, Lady Nasuada," Arya responded graciously. "Now, may I use your mirror to contact Queen Islanzadí?"

"You may." Arya moved over to the scrying mirror and set her dragon down on the ground before she uttered the spell. The mirror became swirled for a moment, until a blank tent appeared in the background. For a while, nothing seemed to happen, until Lord Däthedr walked into the tent and put his fingers to his lips.

"Atra esterní ono thelduin, Arya Dröttningu," Däthedr said in his lilting voice.

"Atra du evarínya ono varda, Däthedr-vodhr," Arya responded in turn. Before Däthedr could speak, Arya said, "Could you alert Queen Islanzadí that I wish to speak to her. I have tidings that could very well change the course of the war."

"Of course, Dröttningu." And with that, Däthedr left the tent and the static background was all that could be seen for some minutes. Finally, the Queen entered the tent and sat down before the mirror."

"Greetings, daughter," the queen said in the ancient language, forgoing the customary greeting. "Lord Däthedr has told me you have great news."

"Yes, mother. Earlier today, we came in possession of the last dragon egg." Seeing the look on her mother's face, Arya continued, determined to get interrupted. "Murtagh sent it to us, as he is trying to break the oaths Galbatorix has placed on him."

"And why wasn't this relayed to me immediately," Islanzadí interjected when Arya took a breath.

"Because of who the egg was supposed to hatch for, Your Majesty," Eragon answered. "I accidentally came in contact with the dragon's thoughts and it, or rather he, knew who his Rider was. We feared that, since the new Rider is an elf, you might order the elf back to your army, and the new Rider would not get trained properly."

"Who is the next Rider, Shadeslayer?" Islanzadí asked, barely containing her anger.

"It is me, mother," Arya said. She bent down, picked up the dragon, and showed him and the gedwëy ignasia on her right hand to Islanzadí, who was astonished, to say the least.

"My daughter…is a Dragon Rider," the queen breathed.

"Yes, mother," Arya said simply.

The queen struggled for words. "Oh, Arya, I am so happy for you!" Islanzadí exclaimed finally. "You have been honored greatly. Now, it is my assumption that you are going to stay with the Varden and learn under Eragon, am I correct?"

"Yes, mother," Arya said, not wanting to continue this conversation much longer.

"Not that there is much I can teach you, Arya," Eragon added. "Your skill exceeds mine in magic and swordsmanship, and you are already well versed in politics, being a princess. The only concepts you need to learn are how to care for your dragon and the history of the Riders, which Saphira and I will teach you during the winter."

Islanzadí drew herself up to her full regal height. "Then, it seems everything has been settled. Goodbye, Eragon. Arya, my daughter, I will always be proud of you." She turned and left the tent.

Arya let the spell go and the mirror reflected her own visage again. She was surprised at how pained she looked, as if she couldn't bear to talk with her mother again. Arya drew herself up again as Nasuada said, "I am glad to see that we have another advantage in the battle against the Empire. However, it is the middle of the night, and I think that we should all retire and rescue what sleep we can. Eragon, Arya, you are free to leave."

"Thank you, my Lady," Eragon said, and left the room. Arya barely nodded her head in Nasuada's direction before leaving. She was too preoccupied with the now-awake hatchling in her arms. He was sending her a wave of comfort and love, and she smiled down at him as she followed Eragon outside the keep.

"When the time comes and he can speak, you will need to give him a name," Eragon said.

"How will I do that?" Arya asked, puzzled.

"I will give you a list of all of the male dragon names I know. Unfortunately, the only way to figure out the name is trial and error. You will have to send him each name, one at a time, and see which one he likes. He will choose his own name."

"Is that how Saphira came to be named?"

"Yes," Eragon looked up at his dragon a little awkwardly, "although I did not know her gender, and I started out by sending her male names. She thought it was extremely amusing." Arya laughed at this. "However, I finally figured out she was a female, and the name that seemed to fit the best for her was Saphira. So I sent her the name, and she liked it."

_"You will have to learn-"_

"that your bond with your-"

_"partner-of-mind-and-heart-"_

"is of the utmost importance-"

_"and should be treated as such."_

"You should share everything-"

"Stop!" Arya yelled, glaring at Eragon and Saphira in frustration. They both stopped in shock, once again not realizing that they were speaking in turn. Eragon shook his head and laughed while Saphira gave Arya the dragon version of a smile.

"Sorry, Arya," Eragon apologized. "However, you will come to understand the depth of the bond that Saphira and I share when you attain it with your dragon."

"How long will it take until he can speak?" Arya asked.

"It depends on the dragon, but it usually takes between two weeks and a month. It helps if you send him mental pictures of what each word means. That would increase his comprehension and, through that, his ability to put words together and form coherent sentences."

At that point, Eragon had reached his tent. "Good night, Arya. Or should I say, good morning, because we only have a few hours left until dawn." He ducked into his tent.

Arya smiled slightly. "Good morning, Eragon." She turned to return to her own tent.

"Oh, one more thing." Eragon stuck his head out from inside the tent. "Throughout the duration of your training, you and your dragon are to call Saphira and I "master" in the human tongue or "ebrithil" in the ancient language."

Arya sighed. "Yes, ebrithil," she said with difficulty.

Eragon must have sensed her discomfort, because he said, "Do not worry, Arya, it is just a formality. I admit that there are things you can teach me as well. It is just a tradition of the Riders of Old, and Oromis and Glaedr had us call them "ebrithil" when we were being tutored under them. Once you have completed your training, we shall be equals as full Riders."

Arya scowled, still upset that she had to call someone 80 years younger than her master, but she swallowed her pride and nodded curtly to him. Turning around, she walked gracefully to her tent, placing the dragon on her bed next to her. She looked into his eyes and saw true happiness, and she smiled back at him, her dreams of earlier in the night forgotten, before falling into her waking dreams.

**And so, the egg hatches, Arya becomes a Rider, and the two of them are as equal as possible. Arya is an elf, Eragon a half-elf. Close enough. Arya cannot be a ruler any more, as she is now a Rider like Eragon. The only problem is the age difference, but when they are immortal, 80 years isn't going to be that big of a problem. CP has tried to make them as close to each other as possible (hence creating Varaug and destroying him in the matter of 5 pages just so Arya could be a Shadeslayer as well). That's why I believe ExA will happen (and really, what else would? Nasuada? Not likely, considering she likes Murtagh). I hope you guys liked it. It was really fun for me to write. Next chapter is the beginning of winter, and is really a filler, but it describes some of the hardships the Varden will face before they continue the war and march on Dras-Leona in the spring with the elves and the dwarves. And then, on to Urû'baen. **

**Rock on!**

**ROK**


	14. Chapter 14

**And we're on to Chapter 14! Another Arya POV. Thanks for all the reviews I got (9!). That puts us at 108 reviews for 13 chapters. You guys rock! By the way, a quick shout out to Dagibsta, my 100****th**** reviewer. You always review so quickly!**

**I'm so sorry for this chapter being a day late. My mom dragged me out of the house all weekend to do "back to school" shopping, and to compound that my computer got a virus and I had to clean it up yesterday. Oh, yeah, school starts tomorrow. Yay! (sarcasm intended) That means that my updates will slow down, from every other day to about two to three times a week. Again, I'm sorry, but with my aforementioned schedule it's going to be tough to do my homework and write every night. Anyway, on to the review replies.**

**EB, you're right about Arya being better than Eragon, I changed that. Eragon knows a little about politics from what Oromis taught him, but he was insinuating that Arya knew much more because she was a princess. Thank you for pointing out my mistake.**

**Restrained Freedom, yes, that dream is going to be important further on in the story. The only thing I'll tell you is dragons have a great read on emotions.**

**Korkman2, I've tried writing longer chapters, but they become dull and emotionless. I just seem to write better at this length. Believe me, it won't be a lovey dubby story, as you call it. The way I see it, in fact, she will tell him in Chapter…right, as if I'm going to spill when one of the most important events is going to happen. Anyway, it won't be a total ExA fic, more of a general story.**

**SimplySupreme, if you used the same dream sequence as I did, I am so sorry. I thought I came up with that all by myself, so if I accidentally copied you, I didn't mean to. Islanzadí was happy because there is a new Dragon Rider, but she was also extremely exhausted from fighting and leading and stuff, and she had just been woken up in the middle of the night. She wasn't in full control of her emotions.**

**Cara Meirfert, no, I won't forget about the ROK and the VOS. Heck, it's my pen name, so I don't think I'll be able to forget about it even if I tried. Believe me, it'll come up soon enough. Sooner than you think, perhaps.**

**Draco Lucis, even though you had nothing extremely valuable in your review, I just have to say I love your commentary. You made me laugh so hard when I read it. Thanks!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own any recognizable parts of the Inheritance Cycle.**

**Chapter 14**

Arya gradually came out of her waking dreams and felt a small weight resting on her stomach. Looking down, she was met with the intelligent, emotion-filled emerald eyes of a dragon. Suddenly, the memories from the night before crashed down on Arya and she smiled, somewhat giddy. _Her _dragon. She then realized that part of the happiness she was feeling was emanating from him. He was filled with joy that Arya had awoken.

Arya then felt a small presence in her mind, yet she knew, somehow, that it was not harmful in any way. It wasn't even a truly alien presence, more like an extension of herself. She started when it occurred to her that she was feeling her dragon in her mind. _So that's where the feelings are coming from, _she thought. Pleased that she was already connected with him, Arya gently picked him up and placed him on the floor. He squeaked, not wanting to leave her warmth, before running around in circles looking for food. Arya laughed at the sight, but quickly sobered up when she remembered she would have to find food for him until he grew big enough to hunt for himself.

Before she lost her thought process, Arya grimly expanded her mind out into the camp and found a nearby rabbit. Killing it with one of the twelve words of death, she cast a spell to bring it into the tent. When the hatchling saw the rabbit, he immediately pounced on it. Arya turned away as he happily ate the small animal, bones and all.

When the dragon had finished his meal, she picked him up again and made him invisible to outside eyes. She was on her way to formally address the leaders of the Varden, as well as Eragon, and tell them about her dragon. Until then, however, Arya wanted him to remain unseen by the members of the Varden, as she did not know how they would react to seeing him in her arms.

Walking out of the tent, Arya quickly made her way to the center of the city, where the keep was located. As she entered the lowest floor, she was hailed by someone. Turning around, she realized it was Angela, followed as always by Solembum.

"Congratulations, Arya, I figured you might have been the one!" Angela said excitedly.

Arya immediately froze. In the coldest voice she could muster, she said, "I have no idea what you are talking about. Now, I must go and see Nasuada." Before she could leave, however, the herbalist spoke.

"Now. Arya, don't forget that I know a lot about what happens here in the Varden, not to mention I have Solembum. I know that you are holding the hatchling in your arms right now, although I agree that it is best to keep him invisible until the time comes that Nasuada can announce his presence to the Varden as a whole."

Arya paled as she gaped at Angela, who just laughed. "Ha! That's the first time I've ever stunned an elf! Well, I guess there's a first time for everything, isn't there?"

As the herbalist turned to leave, Solembum padding at her heels, Arya found her voice again. "Wait! How did you know that I am a Dragon Rider?"

"I have my sources," Angela replied, her eyes twinkling with glee. "Don't worry, Solembum and I won't ruin the surprise. Although if you were trying to keep this a secret from everybody in the Varden, you might have wanted to cover up that hand." Arya looked down and saw the gedwëy ignasia on her right palm. When she looked up, Angela and Solembum were gone.

Shaking her head, Arya continued into the keep. When she stood in front of the doorway to Nasuada's control room, the Nighthawk captain, a dwarf Arya had remembered originally meeting in Farthen Dûr, banged his fist against his shield and announced, "Arya Shadeslayer to see you, my Lady!"

"Let her in," came Nasuada's voice. Arya opened the door and regally strode into the room. Nasuada was sitting on the throne, as usual, flanked by King Orrin and Jörmundur. Eragon was next to Orrin, and across from him was, surprisingly, King Grimrr Halfpaw. Arya didn't realize that the king of the werecats would be present at the Varden's meetings, but when she thought about it, he had the necessity, like Orrin as the king of Surda or herself as the Ambassador to the Elves, to be at the council meetings. Further on, lower members of the council sat in their respective seats.

Arya took her seat next to Eragon as Nasuada began speaking. "Yesterday, when Eragon and Arya found the last dragon egg in the woods east of Belatona, we were told that he would hatch for Arya. However, we were surprised when the egg hatched last night. Arya, if you would please show the room your dragon?"

Arya dropped the spell that veiled her dragon, and a collective gasp echoed through the room. The only one who didn't react in any way, besides Eragon and Nasuada, was Grimmr Halfpaw. Immediately, a clamor of voices struggled to make themselves heard.

"Why wasn't I notified?" asked King Orrin.

"Why did Saphira roar last night? Because the egg hatched?" questioned Jörmundur.

"Who gave us the egg?" asked one of Nasuada's generals.

Nasuada raised her hand, and everything stilled. "One at a time," she admonished. "King Orrin, you were not notified because it happened in the middle of the night last night. We could not make it to you in time. Jörmundur, Hadrian, I believe Eragon Shadeslayer can best answer your questions."

Eragon stood up. "Thank you, my Lady. Yes, Jörmundur, Saphira roared because she was excited at the prospect of the egg hatching. Hadrian, the egg was given to us by none other than Murtagh," he said. At the man's enraged oath Eragon held up a hand, silencing him. "Yes, I realize that most of you believe Murtagh is a blasted traitor, but you must understand the fact that he is not willingly controlled by Galbatorix, and is doing the best he can to help the Varden. Think of him as the ultimate spy. He listens to his 'master's' orders, but behind the scene he is aiding the Varden's efforts."

The entire room grew silent, trying to comprehend what Eragon had said. Arya was impressed at Eragon's logic and cool demeanor. The silence was broken by Nasuada, who turned to Arya and said, "I believe it is time to announce to the entire Varden that we have another Dragon Rider to assist us against Galbatorix. Arya, I'm sorry, but I'm going to have to submit you and the dragon to public scrutiny. By the way, does he have a name yet?"

"No, he doesn't," Arya replied. "Dragons choose their name out of a list that their Riders give them when they are old enough to grasp spoken language. Your apology is not necessary. While I do value my privacy, and that includes the privacy of my dragon, I understand the necessity of showing him to the rest of the Varden."

"Good," Nasuada said. "I have sent messengers to all of the Varden, telling them to meet around the keep in an hour's time."

It took less than that. Half an hour later, Arya was standing on a makeshift balcony behind Nasuada and next to Eragon. As Nasuada was speaking, Eragon turned to Arya and said, "Welcome to the life of a Dragon Rider. This is one of the drawbacks. You will be subjected to requests for pity jobs. People will look for you and try to become friends, or even try to ask for your hand in marriage, in order to try to gain your power. I realize that you are somewhat used to it, but believe me, it will be worse now that you are a Rider."

"I understand that, Era–master," Arya quickly corrected. The corner of Eragon's mouth twitched up in a small smile, and he turned back to Nasuada to hear her say, "Our newest Dragon Rider, the elven ambassador, Arya Shadeslayer!"

Arya stood up and looked into the applauding masses. She glanced down at the dragon hatchling standing alert beside her, then waited for the noise to die. Finally, she was able to put together some words saying she would fight for the Varden and walked back to her seat to another deafening cheer. Eragon gave her a reassuring smile and said, "I remember when I had to address the Varden as a whole. I was so nervous Saphira said that Galbatorix could defeat me just by asking me to make a speech to his troops!" Arya laughed, and Eragon's smile widened.

When she finally left the keep, she was instantly hounded by requests for menial jobs, as Eragon said she would. However, Arya was able to escape the people of the Varden and found sanctuary in her tent. She stayed in there as much as she could, avoiding the throng of people that seemed to surround her tent at all times of the day. It was only at night, when she slept, that the people left her alone.

A week passed by, and Arya realized that the nights were getting colder, signifying the true force of the winter that was approaching fast. Her dragon grew a couple of feet in length and was up to her knee in height. Arya was able to send mental pictures to the hatchling along with words, trying to teach the dragon. However, he only reacted to herself, Saphira, and Eragon. When he saw Arya, he immediately sent her a feeling of love and happiness. When he was shown Saphira, he reacted with waves of awe and amazement. When he saw Eragon, however, Arya felt something that she couldn't exactly place. He seemed to be confused at what she was showing him.

Arya woke up one morning to a messenger boy outside her tent. She realized it was Jarsha and she let him in. He said, "Lady Nasuada requests your presence at a meeting, Shadeslayer," and then abruptly left. Arya made her way to the keep and was admitted by the Nighthawks, expecting another council meeting. She was not disappointed. Throughout the entire meeting, she stayed quiet and listened to the men bicker over needless matters.

Then, the tone of the meeting changed. Nasuada began to speak about the upcoming winter. "There are enough supplies in Feinster for the Varden who remained behind as well as the citizens of Feinster to last throughout the winter, unless there are unforeseen problems. However, Belatona is in poor condition. We are still two weeks short on provisions, and that's without counting the civilians. Any suggestions?"

The room remained silent until Eragon finally said, "There are two sources of fresh meat within a close distance. One is Lake Leona. We can keep a part of the surface of the lake from freezing, and we will have fresh water and the ability to fish."

"And what is the other?" asked King Orrin.

Eragon shrugged. "The Spine."

A low murmur ran through the room. Even Arya was surprised that Eragon would suggest that, knowing that the humans believed the Spine was cursed. Nasuada finally said, "Do you believe we can hunt in there?"

"I hunted in there for five years when I lived with my uncle Garrow, and Roran led the village of Carvahall through the entire range. It is safe as long as you don't take any unnecessary risks," Eragon said.

"Well, we might end up with enough food after all. Thank you, Eragon, for your suggestion," Nasuada said. "Meeting dismissed."

**And there's the end of Chapter 14. Like I said, it's a filler chapter, and it only describes Arya revealing the dragon to the Varden, as well as what the Varden will be dealing with while they stay in Belatona and Feinster (SPOILER ALERT! Do I sense that the main characters are going to leave the Varden?). I loved the part with Angela. It just seemed right that she would know ahead of time about the hatchling. Also, 100 virtual extra credit points to the first person who figures out the historical person who shared the name of Nasuada's general. I actually wrote most of this Friday night to post on Saturday, but with school starting and the virus on my computer I ended up posting this a day late. Sorry about that. Anyway, Chapter 15 will be back in Eragon's POV, and I think there will be a major plot event that is introduced, one that will take about 10 chapters to develop and complete. Stay tuned until later this week, probably Friday or Saturday, for the next update.**

**Rock on!**

**ROK**


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